


England Escapades

by fluorescentmythicalbeastie



Series: Fantastic Beasts Fanfiction [6]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Animal Death, Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Journey, Love, OC's - Freeform, Series, Spells & Enchantments, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 61,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9783212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentmythicalbeastie/pseuds/fluorescentmythicalbeastie
Summary: Grindelwald is still on the loose, people are dying and folks are losing hope. The world is in need of a dynamic duo, and there just so happens to be one available: Tina Goldstein and Newt Scamander.





	1. Tina's Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH You guys have no idea how pumped I was to start writing this. I started feeling like my plot for Fantastic Eggs (separate chapter series that has no bearing on this series) was running dry. I want to put out chapters that I feel confident in and I definitely like the direction I'm going to take this in. Please read and let me know what you think!

“Is there a problem, Miss Goldstein?” President Picquery’s voice held its usual tone of leadership. Tina Goldstein stood before her, clutching a small sheet of paper with instructions written in the clear quilled handwriting of Madam Picquery. The office she stood in the center of was quite ordinary looking, what with the dark colored furniture and stacks of books along the walls, but Tina’s reaction to this assignment was anything but ordinary. 

Madame Picquery had summoned her to her office earlier in the day, knowing full well that it was one of Tina’s days off. In the increasing Grindelwald investigation, Aurors rarely had days off. Picquery, however, was not one to coddle her employees when there was a job that needed doing. Tina, being the faithful auror that she was, had Disapparated at once, arriving outside of the MACUSA building with a loud _CRACK_. Tina Goldstein didn’t like to assume, but sometimes earlier conclusions crept their way into her thinking. She assumed she’d be given an assignment that would most likely bring her close to danger and require disguises, as well as leaving her beloved sister for a great length of time. Although this was the norm with her job, she was full of dread as she entered Picquery’s office. As expected, Madame Picquery was gracefully pacing (Tina didn’t think such a motion was possible) the length of her office while a quill scratched on a piece of paper. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Picquery had Tina stand as she put the final touches on the list of instructions and began informing Tina of the situation. Tina listened with keen ears and a heavy heart as Picquery rattled off various instructions. Yes, everything was ordinary—until Picquery mentioned British aurors. 

“Three M.O.M aurors were declared missing after a week of no contact—” to these words, Tina looked sharply upwards. Ministry of Magic aurors? What could Tina possibly do for Britain’s magical Ministry? 

“Is there a problem, Miss Goldstein?” Tina’s eyes fell to the piece of paper in her hand. No, there was no problem. In stark, black letters was her answer. She’d be traveling to Britain. With disdain, Tina quickly realized her hand was beginning to tremble with excitement. _Oh, for Pete’s sake_ … Tina folded the paper neatly, so as to give her hands something to do. 

“No problem, Madam President.” Tina finally met Picquery’s gaze and immediately squirmed below its intuitiveness. Her slight hiccup had not gone unnoticed. At last, however, Picquery dismissed Tina and allowed her to Disapparate back to her apartment. Once safely within the walls of her own home, Tina breathed her first breath since receiving the assignment. 

_England!_ Despite her six months of vowing and swearing that she would not—would _NOT_ —allow herself to be controlled by a magical 3-day escapade, Tina couldn’t help but feel absolutely thrilled at the prospect of traveling across the Atlantic. It wasn’t the prospect of seeing Big Ben, nor the adrenaline of sleuthing in a new country, but the realization that maybe—just maybe—Tina Goldstein would be reunited with Newt Scamander. 

_Damn him,_ thought Tina comically. She threw herself into the nearest chair and began to stew, twiddling her thumbs absentmindedly. She had to level-headed about this. She was an auror embarking on a potentially dangerous mission in which she will be working closely with other aurors and three precious lives will be at stake. She will not be frilling around in a magical suitcase—Newtcase, as Queenie fondly called it—and would not be thinking about Newt the entire time she was there. Still, it couldn’t hurt to visit him… 

“Teenie, I’m home!” Queenie’s dreamy voice rang throughout the apartment as Queenie entered with a bag of groceries in one arm. Tina stared at her in utter alarm before quickly attempting to flood her brain with something else. Anything else. _Weather… weather… Newt—NO, weather! A bit chilly, although it’s still April, very rainy… Does Newt seem like the type of person who would like rain?_ At this point, it was no use, for a gasp escaped the kitchen and it certainly didn’t come from the silverware. Queenie was kneeling in front of Tina in a heartbeat. 

“England?” she gawked, her natural Legillimency obviously functioning perfectly. Tina glared at her before turning her gaze away.  
“It’s for an assignment.” Tina insisted, waving her hand airily. Queenie, however, was not fooled. Tina grew sick of this, sometimes. She could never keep a secret to herself, nor could she ever think a single thought without knowing that Queenie could easy pounce upon it. Newt was something—someone—that Tina tried very hard not to dwell on. Their parting at the docks at made it nearly impossible for his smiling face to part from her mind. She did a good job of getting her work done, but he always lurking in the corner, coming into focus at the strangest of times. This job would become infinitely more difficult if she was on the same continent as he. 

“Oooh Tina, this is so exciting! You’ll have to letter him, of course! You have been lettering, haven’t you?” Queenie scooted closer to Tina, her bright eyes glittering with interest. Tina bit her nail nervously while meeting Queenie’s eye. She had been lettering Newt, yes, but not as much as she would have hoped or liked to do. Truth be told, she made numerous rough drafts of each letter, shaving down any detail that might be taken the wrong way. She was left sending letters that would put any stranger to sleep. 

“Tina!” Queenie cried upon reading Tina’s thought. Tina, in an effort to retaliate, swiveled around to bury her face in the back of the chair. In this momentary pause, Tina’s insecurities saw a ripe time to kick in. They flooded through her, causing her hands to tense on the armrest. What if… what if Newt didn’t want to see her? She hated even thinking it, as the realization made her want to cry (she didn’t), but it was a logical thing to think. Her letters had been dull for six months straight. Back and forth the owl flew, across the ocean, diving inland for London and New York. In that moment, Tina became very frustrated. 

“Tina, you mustn’t think like that! Of course he’ll want to see you.” Queenie reasoned, but her words merely bounced off of Tina’s stony exterior. Any sane, normal man would be completely disinterested at that point. She was definitely crossing the ocean to join the search for the 3 missing aurors, but would she visit Newt? She felt inclined to refuse her own invitation. 

“Tina! Now come on, stop this nonsense. Newt isn’t a normal man, is he? And he certainly isn’t sane.” Queenie got to her feet and held out a hand to Tina, who was becoming aware that Queenie was merely trying to help. Her younger sister fetched her a parchment piece, a quill and some ink and plopped it down in front of her with very specific instructions. Tina looked helplessly at Queenie’s pale face, feeling outmatched by her sister’s defiant gaze. She could do anything she set her mind and her heart to, but rejecting the opportunity to see Newt again was splitting her in half. At last, her heart won out. She began to scrawl with no intention of proofreading, closely watched by Queenie. Little did Tina know was that, across the ocean, Newt was struggling with a similar obstacle.


	2. Dougal's Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is feeling lonely, as he has been ever since his departure from New York. Dougal, however, is prepared to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is definitely starting off as a slow burn kind of thing, but I PROMISE there's going to be a suspenseful plot that will (hopefully) intrigue you.

_Dear Ms. Goldstein,  
Hello! I must apologize for this late reply, as I’ve been quite busy with my creatures. Try as I might, I can never stick to a schedule. I delivered my manuscript to the Ministry and now they’re requesting a few more sketches before they print the final products. I must admit, I can’t sketch very well when I’m under a time constraint, but I’m very excited that after six months (it seems a tad longer) my book will finally be released. I’ve been very intrigued of your tales that Mr. Kowalski--Jacob--might actually be regaining his memory. I must admit this thrills me, but I also expected my Swooping Evil Oblivation Venom to work. Please let me know of any developments._

Newt stops writing and stares down at the parchment before him, scanning each letter in hopes that inspiration for further words might strike him. He has a number of splendid ideas of what to write, but none of them seem very appropriate, seeing as he hasn’t met Tina Goldstein face-to-face for six months. He quickly reverts back to Tina’s latest letter, squeezing every ounce of her being from the words. When she writes, she writes very little. Still, every word holds a certain note of Tina-ness that Newt finds himself looking forward to reading every time her owl arrives. He doesn’t just read, he _soaks_.   
Newt leans back in his seat and sighs, feeling utterly spent. He’s been sketching for the entire day and he feels very cramped. His attention is immediately grabbed when there’s a loud clatter, shortly followed by a crash in his workshop. He springs to his feet and rushes forward. 

“You pesky little bugger!” Newt shouts as he yanks open the door to his workshop, revealing a very fat Niffler scavenging amongst the various vials and pots and pans. Newt leaps forward with precision accuracy, his hands gripping his Niffler firmly around the gut. The regular procedure ensues in which Newt mercilessly tickles the furry belly, allowing any stolen goods to pour from his pouch. Luckily, he only managed to get his grubby paws of a few things.   
“You really must stop behaving like this.” says Newt, his momentary anger replaced by an affectionate scolding tone. He’s like a mother who really doesn’t want to punish her child. 

Thoroughly exhausted, Newt returns to his seat within the center of his various biomes. Papers with graphite sketchings are littered all around, accompanied by a few potted plants. Sitting very casually on the end of Newt’s table is Tina’s latest letter, half-open. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to arrange the paper in such a way that it looked as if he merely tossed it. Newt sighs and buries his head in his arms. Life is hard. For six months, he’s slaved over his manuscript and seen the finished product (minus the newest sketches), he’s lettered Tina and thoroughly enjoyed their interaction, and he has heard tidbits of information about Jacob. Through these six months, though, his frustrations have been mounting. His suitcase is a very calming place, full of the various rustlings and calls of creatures, but it feels strangely empty. It only took Newt two days to grow used to having company--friends--inside the suitcase (what was it that Queenie called it? Ah yes, the Newtcase). When the work began to thin out, Newt felt just how hard the loneliness hit him. He hadn’t been lonely up until that point. He had never had qualms with the seclusive lifestyle he chose. He never felt the need to explain himself to his mother when she asked if he had met any new friends (the answer had always been "No" up until recently). For two days, Newt had a brief glance into the life that he could have chosen. During the heat of the moment, he thought nothing of it, but hindsight is 20-20. His regular correspondence with Tina makes his stomach turn and his heart flutter. Every word he takes in, he imagines that she is seated across from him, uttering those very syllables. It’s during these times that he’s happiest… 

“Dougal, what have you got there?” Newt asks, raising his head from his bare arms. He recognizes the familiar patter of Dougal’s feet as the silvery haired creature hops onto Newt’s table. Dougal looks at Newt with his intuitive blue eyes and tilts his head. Newt immediately feels selfish. Here he is stewing over his lonely soul when he’s surrounded by some of the most amazing beasts in the world--Dougal certainly included. The Demiguise’s motherly instincts are definitely on point. 

“I’m fine, really.” Newt says, smiling slightly at Dougal. The demiguise is not convinced. In a truly astonishing act, Dougal reaches for the nearest nub of graphite. Ensuring that Newt’s eyes are focused directly on his pinkish hand, Dougal grabs the nearest sheaf of paper and begins tracing the edge of his graphite stub across it. It looks random at first, but Newt begins to realize that every move Dougal takes is calculated. Before long, a figure has emerged from the blank paper. Newt leans in closer, a broad smile dancing across his lips. He cannot tell whether he is grinning at Dougal’s incredible (and surprising) art skills, or at the face that appears with a few flicks of Dougal’s fingers. Intrigued, kind eyes lowered to a book and a face framed by waves of soft brown hair… Dougal offers the paper to Newt. Tina Goldstein has been created by this curious beast. Dougal’s creation is stunning and surprising, and Newt certainly will never forget the experience of watching his Demiguise master the art of copying human body language. Newt reaches forward and offers his arm to Dougal, who quickly hops onto it and latches himself to Newt’s upper body. He grabs his return letter to Tina and quickly scribbles out a sentence explaining that the included work of art was created solely by Dougal. Once the letter has been neatly packaged and delivered, Newt leans his head against Dougal’s and smiles. 

“Thank you.” he whispers. It may not be much, but it boosts Newt’s confidence. After all, if he was musing over a lost cause, Dougal would not be enforcing it. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him and Tina after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is really appreciated! Sorry this chapter was slightly short. The next ones will definitely get longer.


	3. A Portkey and some Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Tina prepares to depart from the US of A, Newt receives a wonderful (and somehow terrifying) letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I vow to you that the plot will pick up, but who doesn't love some fluff to start out? There is a bit of an important plot point buried within this chapter, so keep your eyes open. (Hint, it's during Newt's POV)

Tina’s day started out like any other. She woke quite early in the morning and stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest bagel and plopping herself down in the seat nearest to the kitchen window. The sky remained resolutely gray, but it was beginning to lighten as the sun rose. Tina wondered why she got up so early, other than the habitualness for her job. She wouldn’t be going into work early today, so she could easily stay in bed for another hour. She was tired, aching and miserable for no apparent reason. However, after a few swigs of delicious, nearly black coffee, Tina feels good about the world again. Although a sickening pit is forming in her stomach, she tries to keep her mind on the most important matters. At 9:00 A.M, she will be in Madam Picquery’s office. A portkey will appear and she will firmly grasp it and be flung across the Atlantic, landing directly in the Ministry of Magic lobby. She will take the shortest possible route to the Auror’s office, receive any scraps of information about the three missing aurors and be on her way. _Yes, that’s how it’ll go_ , Tina assures herself. The problem of Newt Scamander still remains. 

Newt isn’t so much of a problem as he is a distraction. Of course, Tina doubts he understands just what kind impression he left on her and, therefore, should not be expecting any special visit during her trip to London. Tina tells herself this repeatedly, but a hope nags at her. Maybe she could spare a few minutes… preposterous! Tina chomps hard on the last bite of her bagel, chewing with a vengeance. Ever since her young days at Ilvermorny, Tina has set her work before all else. While Queenie gallivanted across school crowds, followed by her horde of admirers, Tina was in the library writing essays. Tina had the occasional interested boy, but they always seemed to butt directly into any extra time she set aside for (secret) wand training. It was in these days that Tina instinctively set work before all else, promising to herself that no boy should ever interfere with her dreams. This was all before she met Newt Scamander. 

_Damn._ Tina sighs, allowing her frustrations to ride her exhale. She had to remain calm in these types of situations. As foolhardy as it might be, Tina decided to wait until she arrived in England to decide what she’d do. She had bags to pack. Across the Atlantic, Newt was scrambling to clean his flat.  
_______________

It was nearly midnight when an owl fluttered into view and began pecking furiously at Newt Scamander’s window. Despite the late hour, Newt was wide awake. Having finished his sketchings, he was now filling his time by rereading field journals from his favorite adventures. Amongst these journals was a small booklet, filled to capacity with the names of Newt’s (former?) friends. J. Kowalski. Q. Goldstein. C. Barebone. T. Goldstein. 

Newt frowned when he recounted the terrible destruction of Credence Barebone in his Obscurus form. At the very end of the journal, however, Newt had scrawled his own version of a cliffhanger. “A small, black flake of C. Barebone swirled around, not shredding itself into nothingness as the others had done. Instead, it disappeared into the atmosphere.” Newt clung to the hope that a piece of Credence still lived on. 

It was during these grief-ridden memories that a ruffled, annoyed owl began tossing itself against Newt’s kitchen window. The flat was dark, save a cozy glow cast by a flickering fire. Newt’s kitchen was lit only by the pale moonlight breaking through London’s heavy clouds. He threw open the nearest window and allowed the shivering owl into his flat, stroking the bird’s magnificent head once or twice before spotting the letter tied to its foot. The handwriting simply read " _Mr. Scamander_ ". Newt could recognize that handwriting anywhere. 

Before Newt felt comfortable ripping open the letter, he shoved a few owl treats in front of the bird, as well as a small bowl of water. The owl hooted gratefully before diving into sustenance, still eyeing Newt suspiciously out of one eye. Apparently, this letter came with specific instructions to be opened. 

“Is it important?” asks Newt, finally meeting the owl’s gaze. The owl hoots and flutters its wings, casting a few stray feathers onto Newt’s already cluttered kitchen counter. The apartment is an absolute mess of stacks of books, stray papers and unwashed dishes. It gives off a constant frenzied aura, perhaps making Newt’s anxiety over the letter worse. How had Tina replied so quickly? Had she been waiting for his letter? Was she cutting it off? Newt had received dozens of letters from Tina, but none of them felt so short, nor did they come with a very expectant owl. There was, after all, only one thing to do. Newt tore into the envelope. 

_Dear Newt,_ [Newt always smiles when Tina uses his name in place of Mr. Scamander]  
_I received some very interesting news from President Picquery this morning! As an Auror, I often have to travel for assignments. I was assigned to a suspicious case in England, in which I may face danger and I will not have very much free time._ [Tina rambles for a few sentences, giving Newt the details of the case that he probably shouldn’t be seeing] _I wanted to let you know, just in case you’d like to meet up. If you’re too busy or if you don’t want to, that’s quite alright._

The letter ended with a cheery goodbye that left Newt slackjawed. She was coming? To England? She was doubtful as to whether or not he’d want to see her? _Bloody hell_ , Newt runs a calloused hand through his hair, gripping a handful in frustration. Had his responses really become so stale that she was doubtful as to his interest? Granted, the note they left on hadn’t been very steady. It was just a simple hair tuck and a promise. Simple it may be, but it was a ridiculous leap for Newt to take. He nearly didn’t do it! He was standing there, staring into Tina’s damp eyes and the urge to touch her crashed over him like a wave. It wasn’t a proposal, nor was it a request to court, but a sign of affection that Newt wouldn’t show to just anyone. Most of all, he didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret a single part of that journey that the foursome experienced together. Newt scanned the letter one more time, this time catching the time in which Tina would be arriving. This was his chance to finally sort through his feelings. It was finally his chance to see Tina again. This was an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. _He had to clean._  
_______________

Tina glances at the clock on the wall, which reads 8:40 A.M. She folds her hands neatly in her lap and swallows hard. The minutes are ticking by ridiculously slow, not helped by the lack of activity in the hallway. Picquery’s office door was just ahead, but it remained resolutely shut until (Tina guessed) 8:55. The hallway was dimly lit and painted green with a waxy floor. Tina squirmed in the dark colors that threatened to dampen her mood further. Since the morning, she had become increasingly nervous. She spent so much time fussing over her letter to Newt that she forgot just how dangerous the mission at hand might be. Queenie was crying when they finally parted in the MACUSA lobby, but the scene went relatively unnoticed. Within MACUSA walls, it wasn’t uncommon to see tears being shed. In fact, this could be said for ministries all over the globe. Grindelwald was increasing his number of attacks and his followers were becoming more skilled in their daring endeavors. Tina was waltzing into the thick of it.

“Ms. Goldstein?” Picquery’s office door opens, revealing the gaunt figure of Chuck Wardle. Tina feels a pang of relief at the sight of her friend and fellow auror. Chuck was already a veteran when Tina was promoted to her current position in the Investigative Office. At first, he’s very threatening man to look at. Grizzled, tan skin and a squarish face with icy blue eyes, not to mention the bulges of muscles that could be spotted below his cloak. However, it doesn’t take long to realize that Chuck is a humorous man with a sweet tooth, but a bloodhound in the field. When the door swings open to reveal his face, Tina has to suppress a gasp.

Despite Chuck’s numerous scars, his face was always full and he always had a keen amount of weight on his bones. Now, he looked like close to skeletal. Eyes dull and sunken in, accompanied by shaggy and uneven hair. Tina realized she hadn’t seen Chuck since he took the place of Graves/Grindelwald as Head of the Investigative Office. He was immediately whisked away to a foreign land of danger. Clearly, the place hadn’t treated him very well. 

Tina grasped the handle of her suitcase and stood, sidling through the open door. Chuck attempted a smile as she met his gaze, but his lips formed a grimace. Obviously frustrated with himself, Chuck quickly shut the door with a loud bang. Tina stood before the President, clutching at her suitcase with a dry mouth. This was one of her toughest, most important assignments. Picquery was giving her that oh-so hated look of _don’t-screw-this-up_ , causing Tina to squirm in place. A clock clicked away in the corner. Its ticks and hands were menacing and grueling, spasmodically making their way around the face of the clock. 8:56.

“Well, Goldstein, I bid you all the luck in the world.” Chuck says in a forced jovial voice, clapping a hand against Tina’s shoulder. She swivels to face him, putting on a genuine smile that (hopefully) lets him know that she understands. In truth, she does understand. Or at least, she is trying to. Her assignments have been far and few between for the past six months. She can’t possibly imagine the stress that Chuck had underwent in his own disguise, probably facing curses and despicable characters everyday.  
_That might be where I’m going_ , Tina realizes miserably. In that moment, Tina is struck to the bone with fear. The room is simply spinning and she must get it under control. She learned this during training, of course, and immediately reverts back to the best tactics. Newt Scamander’s face is not within her trusty lineup of go-to mantras, so how is it that Tina is staring at him? He’s standing before her, head slightly tilted, Hufflepuff scarf wound around his neck. His blue coat sags from his shoulders and his hair is as unruly as ever, but his eyes are aglow with an emotion that Tina faintly recognizes. _What the hell?_ Tina has to pretend. It’s extremely difficult to lie to herself, but she manages it quite often. She pretends to not know why exactly Newt is the first person that comes to mind when she attempts to hurdle over the great fence of fear. She acts as if it’s a surprise when he reaches for her, his fingers aiming for a spot just above her ear. When she freezes, Tina can no longer lie to herself. 

“Ah, here it is.” says President Picquery rather loudly, breaking Tina’s reverie. Tina gives a startled jump as Newt disappears from her sight, leaving a stone-faced witch before her. Chuck is at her side now, hands nervously rubbing together. He never used to do that. Why was he so nervous? Tina realizes that the portkey has appeared, centered perfectly on Picquery’s desk. It’s a simple writing pen that a Muggle might use. 

“Remember, lay low for as long as you can.” Chuck reminds her, his gaze flitting anxiously to the portkey. Tina nods in understanding before opening her mouth to say goodbye. It’s all in vain, however, for Chuck continues to speak.  
“Don’t walk out of the Ministry building in case Grindelwald has spies. Get in and get debriefed as quickly as possible. Wherever you stay, make sure it has the proper protection enchantments. Oh, and don’t forget that-” Picquery is the first to break Chuck’s list. She hushes him with a sharp grunt before nodding to the portkey. The writing pen has tinted blue and is giving off a strange aura, rattling slightly in its spot. Tina reaches forward and places a tentative finger on the portkey before wrapping it in her palm altogether. 

“Thank you!” she manages to cry out, nodding her head to both Chuck and Picquery before the world around her dissolves into swirling pigments. Tina officially embarks on the adventure that will change her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gimme your comments and feedback! I'm falling in love with this story and I hope you are, too.
> 
> P.S: Sorry for my crappy formatting, still getting a hang of AO3.


	4. An Unexpected Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Newt meet for the first time in six months and Theseus Scamander makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters of Newtina fluff before Newt and Tina embark on the first leg of their journey together.   
> Pleeeassseee leave feedback!

The Ministry of Magic headquarters is uniquely beautiful. Tina feels her feet hit the ground after only a few seconds of being whipped through the seams of time and space. It’s an extremely unpleasant feeling, but it fuels Tina’s gratefulness when she is, at last, steady in England. At first glance, the Ministry building is similar to MACUSA headquarters. Workers go to and fro, clutching newspapers or briefcases. Distinctively different are the fountains that gurgle and spray water, as well as the banners that hang and sway from the tall ceiling. The biggest change of all is the recognizable British accented conversations that hit Tina’s ears. One voice stands out in the crowd. 

“Tina!” the voice belongs to that of a tall, redheaded magizoologist who stood amongst the meandering Ministry workers. Clad in his blue overcoat, Newt Scamander raises a hand in an awkward hello. It seems quite obvious that he has never greeted someone in this way, but the smile that crosses his lips is genuine. Tina was flabbergasted. After so many painful hours wondering when she’d see Newt- _if_ she’d see Newt-he stands before her with absolutely no clue how relieved she is to lay eyes on him. 

Tina is finally brought back to reality when a house-elf snatches her portkey from her phand and hustles her away. Several other people have Apparated in very close proximity. Tina takes several tentative steps closer to Newt, unable to suppress a grin as he rocks back and forth on his heels, obviously unsure of what to do next. Tina, hoping to help him along, greets him. 

“Hello, Newt!” unsure of whether a hug would be appropriate, Tina settles with her voice. 

“Hello, Tina. Welcome to England!” Newt gestures wildly with his one free arm. His other is currently holding a familiar battered suitcase with heavy rope strung around the sides. _Thank God we won’t have a repeat of that episode_ , Tina thinks with a mental laugh. No, a mental _giggle_. Although it doesn’t escape her lips, she scolds herself for even coming close to it. Newt catches Tina’s eye and clears his throat loudly. 

“What type of creatures are you carrying in yours?” asks Newt, pointing a long finger at Tina’s suitcase. It’s safe to say that Tina’s suitcase is in much better condition and is certainly not housing various types of magical beasts. Tina laughs before letting her eyes settle on Newt. It’s a warm, bubbly feeling that gurgles in her chest when he, at last, meets her gaze. They’re standing quite close, being pushed together by the throng of people attempting to get around them. It is, as Tina had desperately hoped, a sweet way to reunite. It’s like a dam is bursting within Tina’s chest, threatening to overflow her with every emotion. Happiness (she was overjoyed to see her magizoologist again), sadness (was he still interested?) and fear. Why fear? _Oh, damn._

Tina breaks from her thought and looks around, nonchalantly checking to see if anyone was watching them.   
“Can I carry your case?” Newt asks (a very gentlemanly thing to do). Tina tightens her grip on the sweaty handle. She can’t do it. 

“Oh, right, sorry. I have to go…” Tina’s voice falters when a shadow of sadness crosses Newt’s face.   
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m here on business and, well…” Tina can’t believe what she’s hearing. She, Tina Goldstein, is getting tongue-tied in front of the man whom she didn’t believe spoke more than 300 words a year. 

“I understand.” Newt says simply, appearing to have overcome his momentary letdown. He shoves his empty hand into his pocket and, again, clears his throat. Tina knows she is spending too much time waiting. She really must get a move on.   
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I have a meeting. I'll try to contact you again, if I can.” Tina gives Newt a final smile before painfully turning away. She has absolutely no idea where she’s going, but at this point she feels it’d be rude to stay any longer. She has expertly and professionally resigned herself to her fate. She must admit that it was nice to see Newt, even if only for a few minutes. She’d certainly write him a thank-you letter as soon as she could. The whole parting feels rather melodramatic.

“Tina!” It’s Newt again. Tina stops. His uneven, hurried steps come up behind her before she turns, eyebrows raised. Newt hides himself behind his fringe of orange hair (Tina didn’t even think that was possible) before fishing a paper from his pocket. It’s folded untidily and has bits of pocket lint stuck to it, but Tina takes it into her hand, unfazed. 

“It’s my address. If you have time to visit, or err-” Newt stops himself abruptly. Tina believes she’s doing an amazing job keeping her composure, as she would very much like to just kiss Newt. _No, no, not kiss. Just talk_ , Tina reminds herself. 

“What?” Tina inquires, wondering what Newt was stumbling over saying. His hand snakes its way to the top of his coat where it rests as he speaks. His fingers dance across the lapel actively.   
“If you need a place to stay.” he says it in a whisper barely audible over the din of Ministry business. Frustration creases his face when he realizes that, in whispering it, he has added more emphasis on the prospect than he intended. Tina instinctively raises a hand to her face, stifling laughter.   
It’s a strange thing, laughter. Tina found that it came easily in the confined walls of her New York apartment, or when she made a breakthrough discovery during school or while on a case. Queenie’s laughter, too, was always contagious. This laugh could be classified as a tension-breaker. Newt’s face slackened as soon as it hit his ears. He managed a brave smile, although he wasn’t sure if Tina was laughing _at_ him. He finally received his answer when Tina dropped her hand and allowed her grin to grow and her teeth to show. 

“I’d like that. If I get a chance.” Tina watches relief flood over Newt’s face before he nods. Never would she have believed that she could have such power over him and his emotions. Tina’s hopeful flicker turned into a full flame within the span of a five minute conversation with Newt Scamander. In the heat of the moment, it was hard to recall how insecure she had felt a few hours beforehand. There was fluttering within her that didn’t cease, even after she bid Newt farewell and finally sought assistance in finding the office she was expected in. She welcomed the stirring with fondness and she soon remembered why. When she was a little girl, a quickening of her heart and a patter in her chest was usually a precursor to a bit of accidental magic. She loved it when she could make hats float for a few minutes, or maybe extinguish a candle from across the room. It was a feeling that great things were to come. After so many dreary days in MACUSA, Tina was thrilled at this prospect of great things coming.   
_______________

Newt watches Tina disappear into an elevator. As her face slides out of view, distorted by the metal bars situated in front of her, Newt raises a hand to wave. He bites back the resentment that threatens to rise in his chest. He doesn’t resent Tina in slightest, but he is feeling quite bitter towards her job. Not only is it the reason Tina cannot take a nice, extended walk with Newt, but it’s also extremely dangerous. Despite the situation that proved just how tough and formidable Tina was, Newt can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. This defense makes him unsteady. He hasn’t felt such a way about someone for a long time (aside from his beasts and close family members, of course). 

Newt departs the Ministry building rather hastily, ultimately deciding that he will bury himself in his work. His flat is cold and uninviting when he arrives. It may have something to do with the lack of light, or the absence of Newt’s usual clutter (he cleaned the entire flat from top to bottom at the prospect of having Tina visit). Either way, Newt doesn't linger. He quickly tosses his coat onto the nearest piece of furniture and sheds his bowtie and suit vest. By the time he is wheeling a fresh barrow of slop to the Erumpet pen, he feels much better. When Newt scuttles past his worktable, he is provided with a painful reminder of Tina’s close proximity. _Leta_.

Her black and white photo sits amongst the clutter of his desk, positively leering at him. Newt becomes increasingly terrified when his eyes rest on Leta’s smooth face and he can only see Tina. He remembers the playful days he and Leta spent together, romping across Hogwarts grounds in search of adventures to embark on. These memories are interrupted periodically by New York, as if the two were clashing together within him, having a competition. It drove him mad some days, and it was only worsened knowing that Tina was less than fifty miles from his home. Most worrisome of all was the way he could only see Tina when he gazed upon Leta’s picture frame. 

As painful as it is for Newt to admit, he had feelings for Leta. The story is muddled and difficult to recount (emotionally difficult). Newt wonders if Tina will be another fling in which his desperate attempts to reach out will be met with cruel intent. Somehow, looking upon Tina’s face for the first time in six months, Newt can’t bring himself to fully believe he Tina would intentionally hurt him. The fear still remains, rendering Newt useless in his situation. He just wishes he could, for once, understand the mess of emotions swirling within his heart. He wishes he could know exactly how Tina felt. He always wishes. 

Newt hears a hearty knock ring throughout his suitcase. Having grown up with the man, Newt immediately recognizes the pattern to be the cheery knock of his older brother, Theseus. Theseus was always one for dropping in on Newt unexpectedly, especially when Mrs. Scamander urged him. She seemed to think Newt put himself in constant danger every day. 

“I don’t have anything to feed you, Theseus!” Newt cries out as he ascends the ladder leading to the top of the suitcase. He throws open the small hatch, revealing his dusty flat. Indeed, Theseus Scamander hovers over Newt with a beaming smile under his combed red beard. 

“I found someone outside.” Theseus says, his deeper voice echoing throughout the dark room. Newt follows his gaze to rest on none other than Tina Goldstein. heseus steps aside, looking rather smug as the two stare at each other, seemingly transfixed. 

“How about some tea?” Theseus grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TINA IS AT NEWT'S FLAT!!! Hooray, took her long enough. But what happened at the M.O.M? More about that in the next installment.


	5. By the Firelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina is ambushed by Theseus. Newt and Tina settle down for a fireside conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I might not be using Tina to her full potential yet, as I've just been using her to kind of explain the whole missing auror situation, but I promise you her narrations will get longer with more action. Also, remember when I promised to give you longer chapters? I might have gone overboard... just a smidge.

Tina is thoroughly embarrassed by the time Newt emerges from his suitcase. Theseus is definitely getting a gleam in his eye that Tina doesn’t approve of. Either way, she’s still standing in Newt’s apartment. It is surprisingly clean.

Tina’s meeting with M.O.M aurors was interesting, to say the least. She was shown her way to a meeting room in which four aurors sat at a round table, notes and folders splayed in front of them. Tired eyes settled on her as she introduced herself and was seated. The aurors looked similar to Chuck in the way of their exhausted physiques. Shoulders were hunched, hair was messy, eyes were sunken and hands were oddly still. This unnerved Tina, but she remembered Madam Picquery reminding her that the Ministry of Magic was dispatching the most aurors for undercover work. It had been hard year for them all. 

Salutations were short. Tina was given the debriefing of the three missing aurors; Daniel Jackknife, Laura Deval and Christopher Peckings. Tina immediately recognized the name of Daniel Jackknife, as he was quite famous for being an American auror working solely for M.O.M. Deval and Peckings were new names to her, so she quickly scooped up their files and began to read. Much to Tina’s dismay, she discovered that Deval was a mother of two children, having just returned to work to help with the war effort. The other investigators seated around the table caught Tina’s horrified stare and a somber silence descended upon the room. Deval and Jackknife were partners. They dove into the belly of the beast when they received a tip of a major attack being planned on Diagon Alley. No one said it, but everyone believed they had been lured into a trap. A death trap. Peckings was a “lone wolf” and had been for quite some time. He was an auror devoted to protecting Hogwarts, but mysteriously disappeared shortly after taking a butterbeer break. 

With each added note of information, Tina felt the burden of this assignment weighing more heavily on her shoulders. After an hour of discussing, and then another two hours of deciding the best plan of action, Tina felt absolutely spent. She hated herself for thinking in such a way, but she would like nothing better but to curl up and go to sleep. She had a wonderful idea of where she would go. 

The meeting was wrapped up when it was decided that Tina would be head of the investigation. Her two biggest allies would prove to be a gentleman by the name of Charlie Hooper and his partner Dana Reese. The two remaining Aurors were scheduled for classified work and immediately departed the room looking miserable. Tina was packing a bundle of papers in her suitcase when Hooper and Reese slunk up behind her. 

“Where do we start?” Hooper asked, his strangely deep voice booming throughout the room. Hooper was short and stocky with shaggy, dirty blond hair hanging limply to his shoulders. In comparison, Reese appeared to be trying to keep her looks up. She wore a free-flowing, typical spring dress and had her hair pulled back in a very fashionable way. She was at least half a foot taller than her partner, but they held a certain chemistry that Tina immediately admired.

“We need to know when all three were last seen and who they spoke to last.” Tina ventured, immediately earning a hesitant glance between Hooper and Reese. Tina tensed. She certainly hadn’t expected to be thrown into the authoritative spotlight, but she hardly expected any demeaning glances from the British aurors. 

“Well, Jackknife and Deval were undercover…” Reese was the first to speak up. Tina swears at herself mentally, having forgotten momentarily.   
“Did they letter anyone? Where were they last reported being seen?” Tina quickly submerged them in numerous questions to avoid being embarrassed. While Hooper and Reese began their search for clues, Tina made the ultimate decision that a trip to Hogwarts was necessary. What better person to guide her than a former student of Hogwarts?

This is how Tina ended up Disapparating to the doorstep of a dark, London flat. The sun still hovered in the sky, its light dampened by shrouds of clouds, and the street was bustling the last bout of activity before the city would shut down. Tina waited to knock, her worries creeping from the back of her mind. She wanted to see Newt, she really did, but involving him in her case might not be the best form of action. Was her heart ruling over her brain? While Tina tried to decide, a figure was watching her intently from across the street. 

Tina tried not to notice. She nonchalantly cast glances over her shoulder, perched on Newt’s doorstep. The man was tall and dressed in a long, swinging overcoat. He had deep red hair that was well cut, as well as a manicured beard that made his determined jawline stand out. It was when he smiled at Tina that she immediately knew who waited across the street. The twinkle in his eye could only be replicated by that of Newt Scamander. 

_CRACK_. He was standing beside her--looming over her, actually--looking quite amused with himself. Tina was still wondering why on earth he would Apparate instead of merely crossing the street. 

“I hesitate before knocking on his door, too.” the man says, a smile creeping up to his lips. It’s an all-knowing smile that makes Tina flush red.   
“Theseus Scamander!” he booms, offering a very large hand to Tina. She shakes it, formulating the right excuse to back away. 

“I-I was just-” Tina started, but Theseus quickly interrupts her by slamming his fist against the door loudly.   
“Just coming to visit a friend, of course!” Theseus catches Tina’s relief and sighs rather dramatically.   
“Don’t fret, Ms. Goldstein, I saw the details of your adventure in New York. My brother spoke highly of you when he wasn’t dodging all my question about that damned case of his.” Theseus explains before continuing his rapid assault on Newt’s door. Tina feels that staying silent might come across as rude, so she clears her throat and attempts a smile. It plants itself naturally when she remembers the ropes Newt incorporated into his suitcase.

“My sister calls it the Newtcase.” says Tina. Theseus beams, delighted at her apparent settling down, and yanks the front door of the flat open. He strides in, calling Newt’s name loudly while Tina hovers at the entrance. Her eyes grow used to the dark room that faces her. When she can finally see, she takes a tentative step closer to Theseus, who has ceased calling Newt’s name and is spinning around the room looking befuddled. The apartment is definitely different than Tina imagined. 

She wasn’t sure what she expected, now that she was standing here. No furniture was overturned, nor were there any of the expected towers of dirty dishes. Despite the cleanliness, the flat was suffocatingly lonely. No picture frames sat upon the mantel of the fireplace or hung from the walls. One sofa sat facing the fireplace, accompanied by a small coffee table. It’s a stark contrast to Tina’s homely apartment in which there is always the smell of something sweet. She finally begins to understand why Newt spends so much time locked up in his case. 

“Not usually so clean…” Theseus murmurs, stroking his beard with a heightening look of suspicion. Deciding not to linger on it, the broad-shouldered man sweeps his way into Newt’s bedroom. Tina lingers at the doorway, her gaze resting upon a suitcase. Theseus knocks quite hard on the top, leaving a few knuckle impressions in the leather. He flashes Tina a jolly grin as Newt’s friendly voice rings out. Tina didn’t catch what he said, for she was too busy attempting to restart her heart. _I’m here… I’m finally here…_

The top pops open and Newt emerges from his case. Again, Tina doesn’t catch the words that Theseus utters as he motions to her. She is blatantly staring at Newt, who is unashamedly staring back. It’s not so much of a staring contest, but more of a realization. A realization that, at last, Tina has found someone she wants to gaze upon for the rest of her life. 

“How about some tea?” Theseus’ voice startles them both. Tina quickly swivels to look directly at him, determined not to glance down at Newt for another second. 

“I’ll be up in a minute.” Newt mumbles before disappearing into his lair. Theseus immediately turns on his heel, his gaze boring down on Tina.   
“Good friends.” he mutters as he sweeps past her. Worry latches on. _Does Theseus approve? Approve of what? Do you even know what you’re talking about?_ It’s Tina’s heart and mind mudslinging each other, giving her a splitting headache. She’s slightly heartened when she hears Theseus chortle from the kitchen. 

It doesn’t take long for Tina to hop back into action. She quickly grabs her wand from within her coat and gives it a small flick, eyes pointed at the fireplace. The hearth immediately erupts into crackling flames. Shadows dance across the room until Tina turns on one of the only lamps in the flat. Theseus is hard at work in the kitchen, crafting a true English pot of tea. Tina watches him with a look that clearly screams _I’m-a-foreigner-who-only-ever-drinks-coffee-and-I-can’t-brew-tea_. She seats herself at the small, square table and scours her brain for ways to start a conversation. She had never expected to meet Theseus and had been preparing her conversation starters for Newt. Although she could be classified as a much smoother talker than Newt, that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Queenie always claimed that Tina was up in her head too much. 

_Oh, Queenie_ , Tina sighs. Her heart aches at the thought of her younger sister. Tina was navigating this new country without the help of her Legilimens Queenie. Tina would come home from a long day, expecting to decompress. What she needed most was to sort through her muddled thoughts. Queenie was excellent help in that field. 

“So sorry about that…” Newt’s hushed voice washes over Tina as he appears in the kitchen, quickly rolling down his sleeves. Tina attempts to reboot her brain, but to no avail. He is handsome. Tina had tossed around the artificial term so much that it lost meaning. She associated the word “handsome” with tall men and chiseled features (Theseus, for example), but in that moment, the definition of “handsome” changed. Handsome was the way Newt’s eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on TIna only when he thought she wasn’t looking. Handsome was the way he inconspicuously tried to hide (Tina had trained herself to spot every tiny movement. She was an auror, after all!) the scars that peppered his forearms by unraveling his sleeves. Handsome was the way he kept his head tilted, so as to maximize the amount he could hide behind his mop of auburn hair. Handsome was Newt Scamander.   
_______________

Newt hated Theseus. No, he _loathed_ Theseus for being able to make light of the very disastrous situation at hand. Tina was currently standing in his apartment, probably wondering why she had even come if he was just going to scurry back into his Newtcase. _Suitcase_ , Newt grits his teeth as he quickly throws himself into a washed vest, buttoning it with trembling fingers. _Pull yourself together!_ He takes a deep breath, holding it in his chest until he feels lightheaded. His exhale wards off the insecurities for a few more seconds. They return in full force, ravaging Newt twice over. He glumly (and instinctively) grabs one of his copied manuscripts of _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_ from his workbench. He ascends the ladder, muttering the while. 

“So sorry about that…” Newt enters the kitchen, not exactly sure why he feels the need to apologize. He becomes very aware of every extra long limb of his body. He instinctively pulls down his sleeves, hiding the freckled skin of his forearms. He is one walking scar. He then shuffles behind Theseus, opting to take the longer route rather than scurry behind Tina. She’s watching him with glassy eyes, clearly occupied in a bout of thoughts. Newt wonders if it could be anything like the onslaught of panic lashing at him. His discomfort is only heightened by a very scathing look passed to him by Theseus.

“So, Miss Goldstein, how are you enjoying England so far?” Theseus asks as he sets down a perfectly crafted cup of tea in front of her. Newt takes a sip to soothe his dry mouth, hating just how wonderful it tastes. He could almost see it happening. Tina and Theseus begin chatting and realize that they have many similar tastes (as well as the same profession). The night will end when Tina eagerly hangs off of Theseus’ arm on their way to his flat. Or at least, that’s what would happen at Hogwarts. Newt never felt overshadowed by his brother in the practical field, for he always knew that witches and wizards underestimated the impact magical creatures would have on the world. In charms and good looks, however, Newt was utterly useless. 

“Well, I haven’t seen very much of it. I was in a meeting and then-” Tina hasn’t finished speaking when Newt instinctively blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.   
“How did the meeting go?” _Bugger_. Tina pauses, her brown eyes boring into Newt. He chooses to look at his hands. Was his left thumb longer than his right? 

“It was… it was productive. The situation is very depressing, if I was to be honest.” Tina’s face becomes scrunched with emotion. The fire dims in the hearth and the air feels a little chillier. No doubt there is only one name on all their minds: Grindelwald. 

Newt hated the man. Was he even technically a man anymore? No person could slaughter hundreds of innocent people and still be called a man. After Newt’s close encounter with the powerful wizard in December, he wasn’t keen to run into him again, nor was he particularly thrilled to know that Tina was getting involved with a case including him. 

Newt had heard of Grindelwald during his days in the field. It was hard to avoid him, actually. Security tightened and the newspapers were dominated by his name in various languages. It took Newt about five minutes before realizing that this man was a monster and Newt opposed everything he believed in. Therefore, it wasn’t until his 1926 encounter that Newt became more wary. He read the papers more and tracked his movements, keeping track of recorded attacks as he might track a beast. His web of followers was growing, as was the trouble he was causing. 

Newt realizes that Theseus and Tina have been talking. Droning on about work, to be exact. Theseus manages to finish his cup of tea like a champion and rises from his seat. Newt quells the nervousness that erupts within him. Theseus is the only possible buffer between Newt and Tina. If he leaves… 

“I’m afraid I have to run.” Theseus announces, twirling his wand between his fingers before his coat suddenly flies across the room, fitting itself over his shoulders. .   
“I have similar situations to deal with-” Theseus inclines his head to Tina. A polite smile spreads across her lips. “-and I really just came to check on Newton here for our mum. She worries, you know.” Theseus utters the last part rather pointedly, glaring at Newt. Newt attempts to look oblivious, but it doesn’t work. For as long as he has had his curious hobbies, his mother has fussed over him. Theseus needn’t remind him, especially in front of company.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Goldstein.” Theseus smiles that award-winning smile that Newt always despised. Tina rises and shakes his hand, equaling his vigor.  
“Please, call me Tina.” she adds on the tail-end of her farewell. Newt gets to his feet to show his brother out the door. Much to his surprise, Tina follows closely. Theseus is perched in the doorway when he swings around, and raises a hand. 

“Ah, one more thing before I leave!” _Does he have to talk so loud?_ Newt painfully realizes that he has grown accustomed to the stillness of his suitcase.   
“Tina it would be wise if you cast a few protective charms over this place. Well, not a few, but all of them.” with that last piece of foreboding advice, Theseus disappears into the street. Newt lingers for a minute more. Night is falling fast over London and street lights are flickering on. The time of day reminds Newt that a normal person would be settling down for dinner. Newt turns to face Tina, clasping his hands behind his back. Before he can speak, the crestfallen auror begins. 

“I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger.” the sadness that shadows her face causes Newt’s heart to ache. A swirling turmoil descends upon him, but he shoves it aside, knowing that showing Tina the door would be devastating (not only to her, but to him as well). 

“I’ve been in danger loads of times, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Newt tries for a smile. Tina laughs loudly and abruptly, just as she had done in when they were at the M.O.M building. Newt takes that as a sign of success.   
“Now then, are you hungry?” 

The pair work better together than they ever expected. With Theseus’ watchful eye gone, Newt feels a smidge more relaxed. He’s also quite relieved his nightmare of Tina walking out with Newt’s older brother didn’t come true. While Tina bestows dozens of protective enchantments over Newt’s modest flat, he takes a merry walk to the nearest corner restaurant. It’s a tiny little place, but Newt finds that their Fish & Chips are quite excellent. So he buys two orders and returns to his flat, intending to give Tina the staple food of England. 

They migrate from the kitchen to the living room throughout the night. A lone clock hangs on Newt’s bare wall, ticking away the wonderful minutes in which Newt is in Tina’s company. The night becomes one that he will never forget. 

At first they have trouble getting comfortable, but the conversation becomes less forced and their full stomachs lull them into drowsiness. If you have never experienced a drowsy talk with someone else, it’s slightly better than being inebriated. _Slightly _. Newt found himself replying freely to Tina’s auror stories and questions about his homelife, which is rare for him to do. Newt slides from his armchair to the opposite end of the sofa Tina occupies. Her feet are pulled up in front of her and her arms are wrapped around her knees, looking very much like a schoolgirl. The firelight dances across the room, hitting Newt over the head with Hufflepuff Common Room nostalgia. Instead of Leta seated across from his, jabbering on about God-knows-what, it’s Tina. It’s kind, level-headed Tina who appears to be keenly interested in Newt’s side of the conversation. She looks somewhat ghostly in the flickering light, but beautiful all the same.__

__“I’ve been meaning to ask…” Tina hesitates, resolutely staring into the fire. A lump forms in Newt’s throat. He hates questions.  
“I have to go to Hogwarts tomorrow. I’ve never been there and I was thinking, if you’d like, you could come and be my guide.” Tina says the words in increasing speed. Clearly, this has been weighing on her shoulders. Newt is caught in another rush of affection of her. It could be kickstarted by the smallest of things (the way she tries very hard not talk with her mouth full, for example), and Newt doesn’t question the urge that immediately follows. The urge to touch her, to be close to her. It’s a dawning realization, just as it was at the harbor during their goodbye. _Bloody hell, man, she’s expecting an answer!_ _ _

__“I’d love to.” Newt breathes. Trademark to his personality, he begins to have qualms. Hogwarts was Leta’s place. It was the time when she wormed her way into Newt’s affections and he believed everything could work out. Could he really bring Tina there? She may never know the real truth, but Newt would always bear the guilt._ _

__Tina yawns and Newt shakes himself.  
“You should get some sleep.” he mutters, rolling onto his feet. His shoes are somewhere in the kitchen, although he doesn’t remember kicking them off. It suddenly strikes him that Tina may not wish to stay the night. After all, it could be classified as inappropriate and possibly detrimental to her job. _ _

__“I-If you’d like, you could stay in my bedroom.” Newt says tentatively before his jaw drops in horror.  
“No! I mean, I’ll stay on the sofa here and you can stay in my room. If that’s okay with you.” Newt’s voice is breaking into a whisper again. Tina appears to be unsure.   
“Picquery did give me a list of inns I could stay at.” Tina glances at the clock  
“Bit late.” she mutters. Glad for an excuse to make her stay, Newt nods, a smidge too eager.   
“Just for tonight, as long as you don’t mind.” Tina decides. Newt doesn’t mind at all. _ _

__He carries her suitcase into her bedroom and quickly takes his own in his hand. The bed has been freshly made and the usual garments are no longer strewn across the floor.  
“I have to admit, I never expected things to be so clean.” Tina muses, sitting gently on the edge of Newt’s bed. He stands awkwardly in the doorway. He’s quite proud of his quick cleanup job, but also disgusted with it. His flat has never felt like home, but now it feels even more hostile than before. _ _

__“Don’t open that closet or it’ll all come spilling out.” one of Newt’s quick grins flashes.  
“Well… good night, Tina.” Newt blinks down at her. A tender exchange of gazes begins, warming Newt right to the soul. When he finally turns away, riding on the Tina’s gentle “Good night, Newt”, his knees feel weak. He stretches out on the sofa, keeping the doubts at bay for just a few more minutes. For now, he thinks only of Tina and the wonderful day they’ll have together._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed me feedback, good or bad.


	6. Hogsmeade Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina begins her investigation on Christopher Peckings' disappearance by heading to Hogwarts, assisted by soon-to-be-famous magizoologist, Newt Scamander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a brand new (and important) character! Enjoy this entirely Tina chapter.
> 
> Edit: I am such an idiot. Madam Rosmerta stars in this chapter and IT'S 1927? ROSMERTA WOULDN'T BE ALIVE! I love her role too much to change it. Sorry!

Tina wakes up and immediately becomes confused. The covers resting against her body are not the layers of blankets she’s used to, and the mattress below her is foreign. She rolls onto her back and finally recalls the previous day. When her playback arrives at the lovely late night conversation she and Newt shared, she can’t help but smile. It was different from their tense letters in which neither knew what would be too much or too little. The conversation simply flowed. She asked Newt questions about his life and, to her delight, he answered. Tina is simply bursting with the desire to write Queenie all that has happened. 

She gets to her feet and shivers slightly, for the room has been infiltrated with the early morning temperature. She parts the curtains over Newt’s window and feels as if she is back in New York. Fog rolls across the street and the muffled voices of employees on their way to work can be heard. Yes, it certainly sounds like home. 

Tina grabs a blanket and wraps it around her shoulders before tiptoeing out of Newt’s room. She peers over the top of the sofa and discovers that Newt is nowhere to be seen. Instead, an open suitcase lays on the couch. She catches a glimpse of Newt’s workshop and is immediately roped into visiting. She throws the blanket onto the nearest chair and descends into the workshop. Once her feet hit the floor, she savors every sight and smell. Candle lamps hang from hooks, spreading a homely orangish glow across the room. Plants of all different sizes sit in a windowsill, basking in the light of an artificial sun; the counters are cluttered with vials containing liquids of varying color. Despite the mess, Tina thinks it’s perfectly Newt (not like the clean rooms above). She pushes her way through the tiny room and quietly opens the door, greeted with the sight of a huge horizon. Newt is at his work corner, bent over sheets of paper, scrawling quickly.

Tina watches him for longer than she should. In such a hectic, insane world, she often tries to find solace in the little things. She sets the time and place far in the future, hoping that she will still be able to stand in the doorway and watch her (husband?) Newt work tirelessly for his passion. Tina takes a deep breath and clears her throat, rapping her knuckles against the nearest plank of wood. Newt spins around to face her, his face immediately lighting up. 

“Good morning.” Tina says in a composed manner, making her way towards him. Her path to Newt is interrupted, however, by a loud hoot and an invisible hug. Dougal appears.  
“Hello, Dougal!” Tina cries out, wrapping her arms around Dougal in the warmest possible way. Any previous composure she contained has just flown out the nearest window. Newt watches with his mouth agape. It feels wonderful to sink her hands into Dougal’s silvery hair and to physically touch something with such tenderness. Soon, several other creatures are appearing to cast curious looks to Tina. Pickett is among them. 

“Someone’s missed you.” Newt says, rising from his seat. Tina notices that he has left his vest somewhere and is now only in a stained, white dress shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and his fingers are nearly black with graphite. Tina marks it as Newt in his natural habitat. Dougal chatters in her ear. 

“He’s wondering if you received his picture.” Newt interprets, reaching behind his back to collect his papers without Tina’s noticing. She pretends not to notice. Instead, she shakes her head and looks into Dougal’s huge, glassy eyes.  
“It must have arrived in New York after you left.” Newt sighs apologetically. Dougal looks disappointed, so Tina pats him on the back and grins.  
“I’ll have Queenie mail it out here, yea?” To this, Dougal agrees. 

Newt comes closer, extending his hand to allow Pickett a chance to say hello. Tina is heartened to know that Pickett still refuses to leave Newt’s body. The welcome she receives from both Pickett and Dougal is overwhelming and quells her momentary homesickness.

“What were you working on?” Tina asks, slyly meandering her way over to Newt’s table. 

“Field notes. They’re very boring.” Newt adds quickly, although he doesn’t make a move to snatch them from Tina’s view. She decides not pressure him and simply begins a long walk throughout the biomes. Newt finds his way to her side. 

They stroll through caves and arctic scenes; Tina narrowly avoids plunging into a chunk of ocean. Literally, it appears as if Newt has transported a chunk of the ocean into his case. In fact, he’s the one who reaches out and snakes an arm around her shoulders before she can do an ungraceful dive into the swirling depths. When Tina asked how deep the water was, Newt claimed he didn’t know the answer. 

“It have a sneaking suspicion that it’s constantly growing.” says Newt, hopping away excitedly. He beckons Tina closer to a ramp leading to a gangplank. The gangplank is cut off by two heavy curtains. Tina follows, equalling Newt’s excitement with a bounce in her step. Newt places a hand on the curtains and peeks over his shoulder, his green eyes sparking with electricity. As dramatically as possible, he throws the curtains apart. Tina is greeted with the most breathtaking view she has ever seen. 

Rolling, green hills speckled with trees, all leading up to a rocky mountain with a snowy peak. Blue skies stretch overhead, dotted with giant birds in flight. It’s as if Newt and Tina stand on a precipice that threatens to dump them in the valley below. 

“It tricked me, too.” said Newt, earning him a confused look from Tina. He reaches forward and, amazingly, his fingers meet with the fabric in which this lifelike view was printed. For the last time, Newt pulls away the fabric, revealing the actual biome that had been created. They were on the hill, now, in the shade of a tall tree, blossoming as if it were summer. Tina takes extra steps to stand next to Newt, trying to convince herself that the view was not real. Still, it was absolutely incredible to envision herself in the wilderness. Queenie was an exotic location enthusiast, although they never had any money to take vacations to these places. The suitcase was a wonderful substitute. 

“I didn’t create this.” Newt tells her, placing his hands on his hips as he gazes upon the biome with satisfaction. Tina immediately doubts whether or not this was true. Magic could sometimes last longer than expected, sure, but creating a whole extra lair on accident? 

“Not on purpose, anyway. I went to sleep thinking about creating a foresty place for extra creatures and when I woke up…” Newt waved his hand to the surrounding forest for emphasis. Sleepwalking was plausible, but Tina wasn’t sure. It was almost as if, with each word and step Newt took, the suitcase responded to him. Perhaps he had formed such an emotional bond with the enchanted object that it was plucking his thoughts straight from his head! Tina had cast her fair share of invisible extension charms for work, but most of the objects eventually returned to normal or were destroyed. Anyone who saw Newt (the man keeping his suitcase stable and reliable) merely as a mediocre wizard was sadly mistaken.

“I think it’s all incredible.” Tina offers, unable to come up with a response to Newt’s unique story. He turns around to look at her, doubt creeping its way onto his face.  
“Really, I do.” Tina adds. Both their faces break into grins in unison. Newt’s eyes linger on her face before he turns away hastily. Tina is given the harsh reminder that Newt, no matter how comfortable he may seem, is like a skittish animal. If you try to get too close too fast, he’ll shy away. There are those stolen moments though, Tina muses, that make everything alright again. Much to her dismay, she can’t linger in Newt’s flat for much longer. After all, she is technically on the job.  
_______________

After much pestering, Newt succumbs to the inevitable shopping trip while Tina showers. By the time he returns with enough cereal and bread to last for months, Tina is already looking fresh in the kitchen. Breakfast is hurried, but still enjoyable. Newt slips away for a few minutes and returns in his coat and boots, his hair still unruly and his fingers still in need of a wash. Like it’s an urge buried within her from her years of making sure Queenie is washed up before mealtimes (later in life, it was the other way around), Tina instinctively reaches for his hands. She immediately regrets the decision. 

She can’t act as if she was attempting to aim for somewhere else! Anywhere else on Newt’s body would be ten times more scandalous and would probably send him scurrying in the opposite direction just as far. Both of them freeze as Newt’s long, slender fingers rest in Tina’s warm hand. While Tina is internally screaming, she’s also very smug over the fact that he hasn’t retracted his hands yet. _Yet_. Tina can only cover up her mistake with seemingly maternal devices.  
“Filthy.” she remarks, although she makes sure to keep her tone light. When Tina manages to let go and give him a shove towards the sink, it’s obvious Newt is in a panic. He stumbles through the elementary process of washing his hands and seemingly forgets how to walk. Tina makes the decision to stand still, so as to not encounter the same fate. By the time they exit the apartment and prepare to Disapparate, Tina can feel her heart thundering in her chest and the blood roaring her ears. She was never one to make stupid calls like that, yet she had done it. In the words of every British person ever, _bugger_.

Newt’s fingers find their way back to her hand. They stare at each other in awe for the briefest of moments before being warped to Hogwarts. 

When they arrive, their hands have unclasped from the sheer sickness of it all. Tina’s stomach lurches and Newt takes a steadying step forward before sucking in a long breath. Tina squeezes her fingers into her palms, burying the memory of Newt holding her hand deep within her brain. A Caterwauling Charm is in effect. 

“Newt, they think we’re intruders.” Tina warns him, tugging on his arm slightly to get his attention. He gives his head a good shake and nods before striding off. Their feet slop over wet earth as they approach a cobblestone street lined with tiny, crooked shops and houses. Tina is immediately hit with a sense of foreboding. The shops are lit in every window and chimneys puff twirls of smoke, looking falsely cheery. Tina can’t be sure as she has never visited Hogsmeade before, but she’s quite sure that the villagers were told to act as normal as possible. 

“STOP THERE!” cries a female voice before a flash of blue streaks through the air, narrowly missing Tina’s head. Newt yanks Tina by the arm in fear that more spells will attempt to strike her, but Tina is thoroughly wrapped up in discovering where the voice has come from. 

“I’m Tina Goldstein, an auror from MACUSA! I’m here investigating!” she shouts, fishing through her coat before finding her badge and displaying it. Newt’s was suspiciously scanning the horizon. They stood on the cobblestone road, positioned just before the first row of houses. No one stood in the windows, nor did they peek out from building corners. 

“Drop your wand.” the voice commands. The wailing and yowling of the Caterwauling Charm make it impossible to pinpoint the source location. Tina fishes out her wand and drops it on the street with a satisfying clatter. Newt still clings protectively to his. Tina puts her hand on his arm, urging it downward. Finally, it falls to the stones.

 _WHOOSH!_

A very breathless redhead drops in front of them, landing squarely on her feet with a triumphant gleam in her eye. In one hand is a long, slender wand pointed directly at Tina’s chest. Her other arm hugs a broomstick. 

“Welcome to Hogsmeade, Miss Goldstein, but who is this?” the girl asks, jabbing her wand in the direction of Newt. Her hair is messy and windblown, but her stance is the stance of a veteran dueler. Her gleaming green eyes are settled solely on Newt. Tina doesn’t like that one bit.  
“Newt Scamander, he’s my-” they exchange a brief glance. _Damn_. She hadn’t meant to use titles so early on. She had intended to say “partner”, but her lips desperately wanted to form something else.  
“-partner.” she croaks, quickly averting her gaze from Newt. He shoves his hands into his pocket and mutters something inaudible. Tina had forgotten that, during this trip to Hogwarts, she’d be with Newt the entire day. It was not a good time to exchange tender glances and hold each other’s hands, but it was what Tina wanted to do most. _Focus, dammit, focus! You’re here on a mission._ Christopher Peckings.

“I’m here to investigate the disappearance of Christopher Peckings.” Tina adds loudly, thoroughly catching the girl’s attention. She sharply peels her gaze away from Newt and her unsettling stare rests of Tina’s face. She begins to lower her wand. 

“I’m Darla Fey. I worked with Chris.” the girl, Darla, suddenly has a shaky voice. Her eyes go misty, prompting Tina and Newt to not make any sudden movements. If she was to snap out of her daydream and find them holding their wands, it would not end prettily. Newt, however, seems to forgo this. He leans down and scoops up his wand as fast as frog tongue. Darla gives herself a little shake and returns her own wand to her pocket. Tina reaches down and grabs her own. 

The Caterwauling Charm is silenced and the trio begin walking through Hogsmeade. The shop windows are suddenly black and lifeless, definitely not trying to call attention to themselves in the event that Grindelwald has appeared in Hogsmeade. Tina keeps herself close to Newt, finding comfort in his tall stature and obvious knowledge of the place. His head keeps swiveling from side to side, concern creasing his freckled forehead. 

“Chris was a good man.” Darla says as they walk. “I worked with him for about half a year before he disappeared.” Darla adds mournfully.  
“So he’s never left his post before like this?” Tina asks, although she already knows the answer. Peckings had a spotless record and a long history of patrol jobs. He knew the rules of leaving his post and would presumably find the thought unfathomable. A butterbeer break certainly wasn’t against the rules, but was Peckings prone to such extended excursions? 

“Did he like to take breaks at The Three Broomsticks?” Tina inquires, earning her a disgusted glare from Darla. “You think he got _drunk_?” she replies haughtily. Tina looks up at Newt, slightly frustrated to see that his gaze is fixed on a point down the road. Tina can’t blame him, though, as this was not his case to work on.  
“I just need answers.” Tina responds coolly. Darla rolls her eyes in a fashion not fit for such a delicate matter.  
“‘Course he wouldn’t do that. He enjoyed a butterbeer, sure, but don’t we all?” Darla sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. Before Tina can stop herself, she immediately replies.  
“No, actually, I’ve never had a butterbeer before.” It’s an extremely stupid thing to say and she says it in a tone that makes her cringe. Newt still has a faraway look in his eye. Tina is growing increasingly frustrated with herself for being in this tense situation. She had to start at square one. 

The Three Broomsticks is black in the windows, but once Tina holds her MACUSA badge to the front window, the owner (Madam Rosmerta) quickly lets them in.  
“Fancy a ‘cuppa?” asks Madam Rosmerta, gliding gracefully to the back of the counter. Newt is spinning around the room, obviously lost in a bout of nostalgia.  
“No, thank you. Do you remember serving Christopher Peckings here?” asks Tina, attempting to gloss over the fact that he has been missing for three straight days.  
“Oh, yes, loads of times. He was a nice chap. Good-looking, too.” Madam Rosmerta raises her voice on the last part of her statement, her gaze flicking to Newt. Newt turns around and takes a seat beside Tina, finally greeting Madam Rosmerta like an old friend. Once the formalities are done, Tina continues asking questions. 

“Did you serve him the last time he was in here?”  
“You mean the day he disappeared? Yes, I did.”  
“Was he acting strange at all?” Tina’s voice has lowered slightly. Madam Rosmerta glances at the door before leaning closer towards Tina.  
“Is that other auror listening in?” she asks. Tina sits straight in her chair, wondering what on earth Darla could have to do with the whole thing. They had deposited the auror outside after she remembered it was her responsibility to keep her eye on the village. 

“You see, Missus-sorry, what did you say your name was?” Missus? Tina shakes herself and proffers her hand.  
“Tina Goldstein. _Miss_ Goldstein.” Tina responds. Madam Rosmerta’s gaze noticeably flicks to both her and Newt’s hands. Whether she is searching for a ring or noticing just how close they are in distance (Tina hadn’t noticed until just then, either), Tina isn’t sure. 

“Right. You see, Miss Goldstein, I get all kinds in here. I could tell something was hurting Mr. Peckings, just by the way he didn’t talk and didn’t even finish his butterbeer.” Madam Rosmerta leans back with a satisfied gleam in her eye. Tina doesn’t understand if she thinks this is conclusive evidence or something. Her silence draws an explanation from the pub owner.  
“I think he fancied his partner, that Fey girl, and she turned him down.” Madam Rosmerta shakes her head woefully. Tina stifles a groan of frustration. 

They depart The Three Broomsticks after it becomes clear Madam Rosmerta doesn’t know very much. Tina leaves the building, expecting to hear Newt’s uneven footsteps behind her. When they don’t come, she turns around just in time to see him swing open the door and step onto the street. He carries a pint of orangish, frothy liquid (presumably butterbeer) in both hands, grinning softly.  
“What’s this?” Tina laughs quietly as Newt holds out a pint to her.  
“You can’t be in Hogsmeade and not have a butterbeer. C’mon, drink up.” Newt insistently pushes it closer to her, threatening to spill the white foam over the edges. Tina takes it from him and shakes her head.  
“We really should keep moving.” she mumbles. Newt suddenly seems very interested in keeping his eyes fixed on her. While she wonders what was the change of heart was (seeing as he had just been staring off in the distance for the past half hour), she always finds it enjoyable. The butterbeer is warm in her hand, but something else is burning within her. She had been under the impression Newt wasn’t paying very much attention, but he had heard her curt remark about never having a butterbeer. That counted for something… right?

“You should sit and sort through things.” Newt points to the nearest bench and Tina immediately caves. They sit down in unison, bumping each other a little bit more than they intend to. Immediately, Tina is reminded that she has never been so close to him. She can smell Newt’s cologne, mixed with the earthy and barnish scents that cling to him from his work. It’s possibly the most heavenly smell that has ever touched her nose. Tina takes a swig of butterbeer from her pint, letting the smooth, warm liquid calm her nerves. 

“Good?” Newt is positively beaming now. She nods and he gets a smug look of satisfaction. Tina never noticed how, when he smiled, the very corners of his eyes crinkled. How about that?  
“You have, uh…” Newt produces a handkerchief from his pocket and reaches forward tentatively. Tina, to her surprise, doesn’t flinch when he wipes across the top of her mouth. It’s a simple gesture, but it opens up a whole part of Tina that she never thought existed. A part in which she realizes she trusts Newt wholly and completely (maybe even against her better judgement). It’s a part that she feels she must absolutely share with him. One day. 

“Do you think it could be true?” Tina asks abruptly. Newt takes it as a sign to draw away as quickly as possible, causing Tina to swear (again) below her breath.  
“What?” he asks, shoving his handkerchief deeper into his pocket.  
“That Peckings fancied Darla.” Tina’s voice is a mere whisper now. Newt stares resolutely ahead, shrugging his bony shoulders.  
“I’m not much of an expert in that field.” he mumbles apologetically. Tina feels horrible for tossing him into such a question that he would obviously be uncomfortable with. She takes another sip of her butterbeer, careful to remove any excess foam that lingers on her lips. 

The rest of their time together on the bench is only slightly uncomfortable. Tina gets Newt talking about what Hogsmeade should be like. 

“It was always a place of fun and energy and-and now it’s just…” Newt’s wide eyes scan the dark buildings around him. Tina tries to envision the place deep in snow, aglow with lights and bustling with students. If anything, it gives her more incentive to get to her feet, return her glass to Madam Rosmerta and plod onward in her case. It’s almost impossible that Peckings’ disappearance will be related to anything but Grindelwald. They have to take chunks out of that evil man, one by one, until there was nothing left. 

“Tina?” Newt is several steps ahead of Tina, waiting for her to follow. His hand twitches at his side. Tina vaguely wonders if he’d like it offer it to her. It’s when Tina arrives at the conclusion that she’d actually grab his hand that she decides she is absolutely crazy.  
_No, not crazy! Just in love._ She can hear Queenie’s voice echoing throughout the village. 

“It’s an incredible view.” Tina nods to Hogwarts castle looming in the distance. She was already growing used to its appearance. When she studied it, however, it became much more impressive. Stone brick upon stone brick, built up with magic and reinforced with magic. Lights flicker in the windows and birds soar overhead, making it so very picturesque that Tina hates to take her eyes off of it.  
“I’ve missed it.” Newt confesses as they continue walking down the cobblestone street. They fell into step together (roughly, for Tina’s walk was much more even, whereas Newt’s stride tended to vary). Tina is formulating a number of questions about Hogwarts that will inevitably make Newt glance over Leta Lestrange, but at that moment she spots Darla waving to them. Bubbling with insecurities at the very thought of Leta Lestrange, Tina reaches Darla and immediately spits out the question burning on her mind. 

“Were you and Christopher more than partners?” There, I’ve said it. Tina catches Newt’s astounded stare and can’t help but feel as if she’s done the right thing. After all, she might be able to shock the truth out of Darla. The redheaded auror recovers and hesitates just a moment too long. Tina feels like a hunting dog picking up a scent. Newt stirs beside her. Has he picked up on it, too? 

“We were friends, definitely. I mean, you work closely with someone and you’re bound to get close, right?” Darla’s green gaze settles over both Newt and Tina. Tina was caught off guard by Darla, to say the least. At first, she looked like a fierce girl in search of Grindelwald supporters to kill. Now, she was looking more like a sly fox, slinking around between situations with her head cocked to the side in interest. Tina steadies herself, despite not knowing she was swaying slightly. The insecurities and doubts over the past couple of days are weighing on her heavily, nagging at her brain. She was becoming increasingly concerned about what drove her through her cases more: her heart or her brain? At this time, Tina felt hostile. Darla seemed as if she was trying to turn the tables, shining unwanted light on Newt and Tina’s close proximity with each other throughout the Hogsmeade trip. Tina’s heart tells her that Darla shouldn’t be trusted and Tina mustn’t become distracted, but her educated mind tells her the comment wasn’t intended to be taken in such a way. Tina is treated with a splitting headache. 

“I was just wondering if he had a girlfriend.” Tina replies cooly. Darla shrugs and begins to mouth a few words, but Tina shakes her head and spins on her heel. Enough of this madness, I need real answers. Newt follows obligingly while Tina works through the facts. 

Their trip to Hogsmeade had proved fruitless in many fields, but (despite the occasional ramblings) Tina could map out Peckings’ daily routine. During the day, the auror would also make trips to Hogwarts itself, prompting further investigation within its highly protected walls. Tina becomes increasingly grateful for Newt. Not only is he taking time to walk with her and listen to her conversations, he’s actually helping. If Tina voices a thought, he’ll do his best to answer it. When they reach the Hogwarts border and receive clearance to enter, she is glad to leave Darla Fey behind. Faced with the glorious castle of Hogwarts, Tina sucks in a breath and prepares for another series of dead ends and useless bits of information. 

“Ready?” asks Newt as they approach the nearest door to enter the castle. A smile creeps onto his lips at Tina’s vigorous nod. Yes, there might be hardships and failures, but Tina feels much better facing them with Newt at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome and appreciated.


	7. Fellow Badger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is launched into a particularly depressing part of his childhood during a visit to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy so I know, this chapter is just a bit short and I apologize! But, I really wanted to highlight Newt's past at Hogwarts in short clips because I don't want to give it away all at once, as it will be important to the story. This chapter also features the password system for the Hufflepuff Common Rooms, which is tapping the 'Helga Hufflepuff' song on a very specific barrel.

Newt Scamander is at a crossroads. Again. For like, the millionth time. In a single morning, he has held Tina’s hands and roamed Hogsmeade, launching him further into his inner turmoil. It wasn’t just Tina, but Leta Lestrange as well. After all, he hadn’t returned to Hogwarts since his graduation and had left his terrible memories buried within the muddy grounds. While Tina searched for clues in a desperate search for Christopher Peckings (isn’t she an amazing woman?), Newt was losing himself in places he did not want to go. The Three Broomsticks was, unsurprisingly, a smack in the face. He had spent many blustery winter days within its walls, listening to Leta laugh and talk jovially. Of course, he always had to be sitting by himself at the next table over. 

Newt surprised himself when he managed to break away from the remembrance of the bad days, until he realized it was all thanks to Tina. Sitting together on the bench, sipping butterbeer and talking like _actual friends_ … it was like a dream. Just a smidge. 

Now here they are, striding together in search of the caretaker and Head of Security, Barney Bones.   
“Maybe you should wear a robe as a sign of respect.” Tina says teasingly, glancing back at the group of students clad in their Hogwarts robes.  
“What’s wrong with what I have on now?” asks Newt, face riddled in mock concern. Tina laughs and they quicken their pace, searching for the corner in which Newt _swears_ will house Bones’ office. Newt finds the entire endeavor of attempting to woo Tina extremely distracting. Just three days ago, he would have been daunted by an entire day with Tina, attempting to form coherent sentences without mentioning his creatures. It was so difficult, in fact, that Newt forgot all about it when in Tina’s presence. It happened slowly at first, but then very quickly. They grew comfortable with each other (well, more comfortable than usual) and they simply talked. Newt can feel himself bursting with an emotion that he hasn’t felt in such a quantity for over a decade. Could it be…?

Newt stops dead in his tracks. Tina is by his side one second, but is gone the next. He’s a young schoolboy, clutching at his bookbag as sweat leaks from every pore of his body. The laughter is drawing closer now; jeers that make the hair on the back of his neck rise. He reaches protectively for his wand, but a sinking feeling within his gut tells him that it will be of no use. Not against them.

“Newt?” Tina. Newt wants to hug her. He _has_ to hug her. He has to latch on to her or he fears he might lose himself again. She’ll want an explanation, but he can’t give her one. It’s too embarrassing to admit to himself, even.  
“Newt, they’re just kids…” Tina’s hand is warm on his wrist, lowering his wand as she had done earlier. The wood is sweaty beneath his fingers and his heart is pounding in his chest. Right, he’s at Hogwarts. It’s the year 1927 and he’s a grown man. Newt slides his wand back into his coat sleeve and keeps walking, desperately trying to ignore Tina’s prying gaze. 

They round the stone corner together and stick to the wall to avoid the large group of students ambling by. It’s a healthy mix of Gryffindors and Slytherins with the occasional Ravenclaw, but their voices are anything but acceptable. Even before their words hit his ears, bitterness wells up within Newt’s chest. They’re high-fiving one another and bumping into each other with shoulders, their laughter contains a note of cruelty that, admittedly, most cannot sense. Newt can feel it.

While Tina knocks politely on the office door, Newt is standing close behind her, squinting at something far down the hallway. Torch light dances across the walls and the air bites at Newt’s skin. The stone no longer feels warm below his shoes. Shadows flicker, but Newt can make out a small, robed figure just ahead. From his stance, he can merely make out the person’s body. Newt’s heart begins to ache as he remembers how his shoulders used to hunch like that whenever he became upset. 

“Newt?” it’s Tina again. This time, Newt can’t simply peel himself away from who he used to be. He absently waves his hand in a gesture he hopes she doesn’t take as rude. With very little warning, he departs down the hallway.

He’s slow at first. After all, he’s Newt Scamander! He’s known by friends and family as one of the quietest and most awkward people to walk the face on the earth. Quickening into a stride, Newt is shoved by the hands of his past. He finally approaches the robed bundle on the stone floor. It’s a girl. Newt is poorly equipped for this, but he doesn’t think twice about the situation. The girl sits with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head buried in her arms. Tremors visibly shake her shoulders and small sniffs can be heard. Her books are scattered around her, some of them are stained with mud from the outside. Newt lowers himself onto a knee. 

He had been in the same position as she too many times to count. No one ever stopped to ask if he was okay, nor did they ever offer him advice. After a while, Newt realized he didn’t he didn’t want anyone to ask if he was okay, he just wanted to know someone _cared_. Rewriting his own terrible past, Newt reaches out a hand and brings the nearest book closer to him. It scrapes against the floor and the girl’s head jerks up. The trademark blinking and artificial smiling ensues, but Newt isn’t fooled. What can he say? Even if he was a normal functioning human being, he wouldn’t have a clue as to what to utter. 

“So why do they do it?” it’s a whisper, low whisper that causes Newt’s gaze to flick from the student’s face to the ground in which the stack of books lay.   
“Do what?” she asks, her legs sliding down to the floor.   
“Tease you…” as soon as Newt says it, the girl’s lower lip begins to tremble. Bugger, you’re making it worse! Newt knows talking will only deepen the problem and probably launch the poor girl into a breakdown, so he grabs her books and tucks them under one arm before standing. He then offers his hand to her. She stares at it. There’s a fleeting moment of disbelief before she grabs a hold of Newt’s long fingers and hauls herself to her feet. 

_______________

Her name is Anna Marie Brown and she is much like Newt in the fact that she is a Hufflepuff. She is different from Newt in many ways, however. While Newt unexpectedly leads the way to the Hufflepuff Common Room, he notes that Anna carries herself with a surprising amount of dignity. She talks so much and seems extremely charismatic, leaving Newt to guess as to why she would be picked on. The most plausible option is that Anna has a secret in which her embarrassment spawns. 

“Magizoology sounds cool.” Anna remarks after a brief summary of Newt’s suitcase. He wishes he could have it with him at all times, but Tina thought it safest if he left it within his flat. At the thought of Tina, Newt kicks himself. He left her all alone outside of Bones’ office with absolutely no explanation! 

“Were you a Hufflepuff, too?” Anna asks, eyes wide as she watches Newt absentmindedly complete the password for the Hufflepuff Common Room. His taps to the ‘Helga Hufflepuff’ song were spot on, despite his lack of attention.   
“Oh, yes.” Newt nods, surprised when Anna’s eyes light up. Surely, Tina would understand this girl better than him. Newt hands Anna her stack of books, proffering a smile before backing away.   
“Thank you, Mr. Scamander.” Anna’s voice dissolves into echoes as he retreats down the hallway. 

Newt finds himself outside under a darkening sky. His hands are shoved deep within his pockets as he takes deep, long breaths of the fresh air. It feels as if he has been repeatedly fending off enemies, physically and mentally exerting himself. He falls to the ground, crossing his knees and embracing the feeling that he is just a battered kid again. 

Newt knew his return to Hogwarts wouldn’t be easy. It helped, however, to have Tina by his side through most of the ordeal, her voice a constant anchor to reality. It made him feel infinitely better when he helped Anna Marie, somehow wondering if, by saving someone from the same path as he, he could also be saved from haunting memories. Newt pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, blinking softly at the Forbidden Forest. Yes, he is little Newt again. This is how Tina finds him (and she immediately understands).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's just a little badger...


	8. An Interesting Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina talks to Barney Bones and learns something of interest before seeking out Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter for you today because there's some necessary information, as well as Newtina fluff. The next events will take awhile, so I didn't want to make the chapter tooooo long.

Tina Goldstein is a highly trained Auror for one of the biggest countries in the world. She can track down criminals, duel them into dust and handwrite a neat report about it. For the life of her, however, she cannot figure out Newt Scamander. After Newt departs hurriedly down the hallway, Tina has no choice but to enter Barney Bones’ office by herself, which is technically what Picquery was expecting for the entire mission. 

“Miss Goldstein, I was told to be expecting you.” Barney Bones says as Tina enters the room. His office is surprisingly dim and plain, decorated only by a picture frame on the corner of his desk. Bones himself is rather plain looking, as well. Tina immediately regrets thinking this, as the same could be said for her.  
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bones.” says Tina politely as she leans forward and shakes his hand. Bones does not smile. He reaches a large hand to his head and slicks back his graying hair before motioning for Tina to sit. She does. 

“This whole ordeal has kept me awake for nights, Miss Goldstein.” Bones shakes his head roughly, keeping his brown eyes fixed to the desk in front of him. His fingers drum against the desk in a sporadic tune and Tina can hear the toes of his shoes dragging across the floor. This behavior is more common in victims rather than the bosses of those victims.  
“Nothing strange happened before this?” Tina inquires. There’s a split second of hesitation on Bones’ part in which Tina’s heart rate spikes. There were always moments like these on investigations when a witness or involved person(s) had something juicy to say.

“Chris didn’t like meetings, you see. As Head Auror, though, we had to communicate.” Bones pauses, reverting back to his obvious habit of running a hand through his hair. Tina leans forward in her chair, highly intrigued now. Bones finally lifts his eyes.  
“It was four days ago. We had guests and I was busy running around to give them a tour of the place… Chris sent me a message calling a meeting, but I just couldn’t attend because I was so busy!” at his breaking voice, Tina deems Barney Bones a very interesting man. At first glance, he appears to be a stern faced man who will gladly help Tina search out Peckings. Tina is extremely surprised when he is reduced to an emotional puddle before her very eyes. It wasn’t her job to comfort the man who clearly believed Peckings’ disappearance was his fault, and she was very ill-equipped for improv. 

“Who was visiting, Mr. Bones?” asks Tina, wincing as he blows his nose loudly into a handkerchief. His fingers rake through his hair.  
“Parent’s of a student. Something about concerns about bullying…” Bones isn’t giving a definite answer about anything, causing Tina to grow slightly frustrated. While Bones runs a fidgety hand through his greasy hair, she gathers her thoughts together and begins sorting at lightning speed.  
Peckings wanted to call a meeting, which meant that he had a concern or a tidbit of information that he wanted to make his boss aware of. Unfortunately for him, Bones was too busy catering to the parents of a student. A diversion? A little voice in Tina’s head is providing her with the most substantial ideas. It’s a chance. If Peckings knew something of value to Grindelwald (or maybe something detrimental to Grindelwald), a nice little diversion could be arranged without much trouble. Without much trouble? It was an exaggeration. Hogwarts is one of the most secure and protected school in the world, even Grindelwald would have trouble sneaking in informants. Still, it wasn’t impossible. 

“Who were these parents, Mr. Bones?” Tina can’t keep a hint of urgency from her voice. The man raises his head and furrows his bushy brows.  
“The Brown’s, they’re the parents of a student named Anna.” says Bones. Tina memorizes the name. She’d research them as soon as possible. Until then, she had to discover what Peckings needed to tell Bones. If there was anyone he would talk to, it would probably be Darla Fey. All roads seemed to lead to her. 

_______________

The remainder of their conversation was fruitless and Tina escaped the office just before it went nearly black. Much to her dismay, Newt wasn’t in view. He had been acting weird (weirder than usual), and it worried Tina more than it should. She didn’t need to investigate another disappearance. 

Tina eventually finds him after scouring the most obvious parts of the intimidating castle. It’s no surprise that he was outside the entire time, resting on a particularly wet patch of dirt that appears to be seeping into his clothing. She can immediately sense that something is wrong. 

Newt isn’t stupid, nor is he dramatic. From exchanging letters, Tina can tell these things because, to her, they’re blatantly obvious. Seeing him in the dirt with his knees drawn up and his head buried into them, her brain begins to whirl. In the deep blue night, he looks many years younger. 

“Newt?” Tina lingers a few paces away, not wishing to startle him. The only sign he gives that he has heard her is the way he inclines his head, so as to further hide his face. Tina has had enough. She steps closer and lowers herself onto the ground beside him, ignoring the mud that immediately clings to her pants. After all, if Newt is upset, that’s all that’s important. 

“What happened?” Tina whispers. Her eyes go suddenly damp when Newt sucks in a shaky breath and starts picking at his fingers, just as he had done in the MACUSA cells when they were arrested together. He had been extremely upset over the loss of his creatures then… Tina fights the urge to wrap her arms around him. She wants to run her fingers through his unruly ginger hair and talk about the golden days that they’ll have together after Grindelwald’s defeat. It’s a painful thing to think, as Tina absolutely cannot run her fingers through his hair, nor does she know for sure that Grindelwald will be overcome. 

“Hard to be back?” Tina offers, noticing that Newt is having trouble stringing together coherent syllables. He nods and raises his head slightly, his green eyes glinting from below his mop of bangs. It’s that piercing gaze that gives Tina courage. 

Tina scoots closer to Newt before tentatively reaching for his coated arm, wrapping her hands around it affectionately. It’s a sign of love that one might see in a couple taking a stroll through the park together, but it means much more than just that. It’s the first time that Tina isn’t telling herself to let go. Instead, she’s telling herself to cling onto Newt Scamander for dear life. To her delight, his arm falls to his side and he leans against her ever so lightly... It takes Tina’s breath away. While her heart begins to hammer in her chest, she can feel Newt’s rapid breathing slow. It calms her just knowing that he isn’t panicked at her touch. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting somewhere. 

Tina doesn’t know how long they sit, but it’s long enough for the stars to begin twinkling down on them. Newt is the first to stir after the first of the night breezes roll in.  
“We should head back.” he mutters, staring determinedly forward. Tina sighs softly, but she knows it’s the right thing. She had allowed herself to slip away from the important case she was working on. It was time to get back to work.  
“Yea, probably.” Tina mutters. So, they rise together. After a quick cleaning spell to the back of both their outfits, they began the walk to Hogsmeade to Disapparate back home. 

Home. Tina feels a wave of homesickness pass over her. An owl from Queenie is probably in a desperate search to find her and Tina doesn’t even know where her real home is anymore. New York was always the place she lived, but her apartment with Queenie was home. Now it felt like betrayal to think such a thing within the presence of Newt. Tina bites her tongue and gives her head a shake. She was getting too far ahead of herself. They were safely within Hogsmeade now and it was time to return home (to Newt’s home), Tina still clinging to his arm. Despite the coziness that lingered with Tina, she knew it was time to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the brief chapter, but all good things come in moderation!


	9. Innocent Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew an owl delivering a badge could be so concerning? Thirteen lives are lost and Tina is getting desperate for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get that ball rolling, you say? I promise to deliver... NEXT CHAPTER. Plot and character building, dear friends (or just blatant Newtina fluff? you be the judge).

If anyone knows the hazards of balancing the heart and the brain, it’s Tina Goldstein. After safely arriving at Newt’s flat, Tina struggles to forgo her grip on Newt’s arm; her hands are warm against the fabric of his coat and he has pulled her as close as she could possibly be. Neither are acknowledging the fact that Tina is literally clinging to him, especially when she breaks the news that her work could only be done at the M.O.M headquarters. Newt looks disappointed at first, but then nods his head in a _if you must_ sort of way. Tina is extremely disheartened when she learns that a reply letter from Queenie would take at least three days to arrive. Newt is equally unhappy about the wait, but he attempts to help Tina by whipping up two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while she retrieves few important notes from her suitcase. 

“Be safe.” Newt says, standing in front of the fireplace in which Tina going to use to Floo. She accepts the bag of sandwiches gratefully and gives him a weary smile, desperately wishing that she could stay with him. She just wanted Grindelwald to disappear and for everything to go back to normal. Then again, what is normal these days? Tina meets Newt’s green gaze and clearly states her destination before dropping the Floo powder. She is engulfed by emerald flames before disappearing entirely. 

The Ministry of Magic is unsurprisingly empty. Aside from a few janitors and house-elves who are sweeping the floors, the underground headquarters is bare. Tina’s appearance evokes the stare of mostly everyone in the vicinity before she hurries away into the elevator. She can clearly be heard asking for the Investigation Department and her late arrival is immediately explained. Out of every ministry worker desperately trying to do their job in such a time of strife, aurors were working the hardest. They went on sleepless stints that rarely yielded any vital information, yet they continued to fight. Being in their presence made Tina realize her selfishness and how centered she had become during her time with Newt. The world was much bigger than just the two of them. 

Tina isn’t the only auror present. Charlie Hooper and Dana Reese were at a desk, heads bent together over stacks of paper. At her entry, they stand and incline their heads respectfully to her.   
“We were wondering when we’d see you.” Hooper says, nodding his sharp chin to the folders Tina clutches. The two investigators look ready for a week’s worth of rest. Heavy purple bags shadow their eyes and both have ruffled, undone hair. Tina feels slightly self-conscious until she runs a hand down her own head of brown hair, finding that it was equally tangled. Without pausing, Tina relays the most important of her information to the pair. 

“Sounds like Grindelwald, that’s for sure.” Hooper says in a bland voice, his eyes wandering to the stack of papers nearest to him. Tina feels horrible for forgetting about the two other missing aurors, Daniel Jackknife and Laura Deval. In truth, she didn’t forget, she had simply become preoccupied with Peckings.   
“Anything interesting on your end?” Tina asks bravely. Hooper takes a steadying breath and Tina braces herself for the worst. 

“We got an owl today…” Hooper stands and shuffles through a few papers, his rough hands trembling, either from exhaustion or fury, Tina couldn’t tell. At last, he pulls out a small bag from the pile and offers it to Tina. She reaches inside and pulls out something weighted. It’s a large golden badge--an auror badge engraved with Jackknife’s first and last name. A collective grimace takes place on the trio’s faces. Tina sucks in air and clenches her hand into a fist behind her back. 

“So either this is his way of telling us that he’s alive…” Tina needn’t finish the thought. Or this was Grindelwald’s way of bragging about another auror finished off. In such a dark, cruel world, Tina is afraid the latter is more likely. Tina pulls up a chair and sinks into it, her vision blurring with a wave of drowsiness. Reese and Hooper are in the same state. Tina’s mind races with so much information, she simply goes limp under the weight of it all. Her head falls… 

“THIRTEEN INNOCENT LIVES!” there’s not a single sleeper any more. Tina is on her feet, colliding directly into Hooper and Reese. The words hit Tina’s ears in a delayed reaction and she scrambles for a view of who has spoken them. A taller, bulkier and very angry Newt Scamander is coming towards her. 

“Theseus…” Tina breathes. Hooper casts her a quizzitive glance. To Tina’s relief, Theseus doesn’t appear to be angry at them. He wears a long, brown overcoat and a scarlet and orange scarf that billows around him from an unknown wind. His closely cut ginger hair glistens with sweat while his beard looks positively unruly. This was not the Theseus that Tina saw just the night before. 

“There’s been an attack.” Theseus announces, standing before the three aurors with a fire in his eyes.   
“Some wizards reported activity over the Channel and ended up getting themselves killed. Ten Muggles murdered and set afloat for no apparent reason…” Theseus is positively fuming, but the haggard looks from the trio standing before him don’t go unnoticed. Tina teeters on exhausted legs while Reese grabs the top of the nearest chair and leans against it. Hooper is supporting himself with dumb luck. 

“We have new information and a few leads, but nothing substantial.” even Tina is dissatisfied with this answer. It had been four days now and time was running out. Theseus merely frowned before shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“We’ll do what we can. Until then, get some sleep.” Theseus is addressing all three of them, eyeing them with concern. Needing no further encouragement, Reese stumbles out of the door. Hooper collapses in his chair. Tina remains upright. 

“Any headway on the missing aurors case?” Theseus’ voice is considerably quieter and not so aggravating to listen to. Tina is first to speak.  
“We have new information and a few leads, but nothing substantial.” even Tina is dissatisfied with this answer. It had been four days now and time was running out. Theseus merely frowned before shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“We’ll do what we can. Until then, get some sleep.” Theseus is addressing all three of them, eyeing them with concern. Needing no further encouragement, Reese stumbles out of the door. Hooper collapses in his chair. Tina remains upright. 

“Tell Newton I said hello.” Theseus mutters as he shuffles past Tina. At first she fears he means it in a condescending way, but his voice is void of any emotion, save a smidge of concern.   
“I-I don’t know if I’ll see him tonight.” Tina blurts out, knowing full well that Theseus probably isn’t interested. In truth, she hadn’t realized until that moment that a hotel was the most feasible option.   
“Why the hell not?” Theseus’ statements are short and to the point (Tina likes that about him). He tosses this particular one over his shoulder, daring to flash a grin back at her before disappearing through an office door. Tina stands steady for a long time, too awake to leave quite yet. _Yes, why the hell not?_ As she leaves the room, however, she catches sight of the brown bag that contains the badge and has a sudden idea. An owl had brought in the badge, yes? Perhaps the owl could locate the sender! Yes, it just might work with the right amount of coaxing… Tina didn’t know who else to call when there was a need for magical creature assistance. First the owlery, then a tiny London flat. 

_______________

Newt is still awake, despite the late hour. He lays on the couch, listening to the gentle breathing of Pickett on his chest. Tina had been at the M.O.M building for quite awhile now. He had hoped there was a chance she might return to his flat to stay the night again, but that hope dwindles with each tick of the clock. Giving up what seems like a useless watch, Newt stands and allows Pickett to scramble to his shoulder before they both descend into the magical suitcase. 

Newt has already fed the creatures their suppers and given necessary massages to Lady the Hippogriff. Newt gazes upon her silvery features from the fence that surrounds her. She trots in small circles and flaps her gorgeous wings experimentally, but she doesn’t take flight. Newt sighs softly, resting his head against the cool wood. The Ministry had been called about a hippogriff causing chaos in downtown London. Newt was the first responder. Not only was he intrigued by her distance from regular hippogriff habitats, but he also wondered why she simply didn’t fly away. He found the answer when he saw a disgustingly crooked wing hanging at her side. Newt exchanged a simple, pleading look with the magnificent birdlike creature and she accepted entrance into his case. He Disapparated without a trace. 

“You’ll be fine, Lady.” Newt remarks, watching her prance in frustrated circles. Lady’s turmoil quite reflected that of her caretaker. His arm was still burning with the touch of Tina’s small hands and her goodbye lingered in the folds of his memory. They had both been so tired that they exchanged little words, just drowsy eye contact that still made Newt squirm. Then, she was gone, and he was all alone. 

The morning had been a truly magical feeling. Despite Newt’s loneliness over the past couple of years in which he is in the field for weeks on end, he likes having a taste of being a homebody. Waking up to a steaming brew made by a lovely woman whom he very much… likes. Newt grits his teeth and raises his head from its perch. If he was going to mope, he may as well mope and make himself useful. Newt sits himself at his desk and begins scrawling a long-winded letter to the man in charge of publishing his book. He believes he has waited long enough to see it created.

_______________

It’s 2:00 in the morning when Newt’s head jerks upward from his desk. His cheek burns from being pressed against a solid surface for so long, but it isn’t the pain that yanked him from sleep. It’s the gentle hooting of an owl that he definitely doesn’t recognize. 

Newt’s life belongs solely to his suitcase. It houses the loves of his life (he doesn’t stumble over the word when using it in the context of his creatures) and everything else he holds dear. Although, lately he has been wondering if another person can be bestowed with the same titles, but he pushes that from his mind. The point is, he knows every creature by name, as well as the sounds they make and when they make them. This hooting was unfamiliar and it was very close. 

“Hey, Newt.” Newt would recognize that voice anywhere. He feels like a puffed up cat calming down after realizing the noise he has just heard was not a predator. It’s simply (wonderfully) Tina Goldstein. She stands in the door of his workshop, an owl perched on her outstretched arm. The owl is the common barn owl. It looks healthy, although sleepy, and it hoots woefully before attempting to tuck its head within its wing. Newt’s gaze slips from the brown feathered owl and rests on Tina. Her shoulders sag and her eyes hold the troubles of work. An understanding passes through them and Newt immediately knows that this particular creature is very important. They exchange the barn owl and Newt disappears in search of the coziest cubby he can find. 

Newt provides the owl with a cranny stuffed with hay, a water pan and some delicious owl treats. Already, Newt feels himself growing attached to the soft bird. Its sunken eyes rest on him thoughtfully as Newt runs his hands through his feathers in search of any unknown scratches or wounds. Satisfied that the bird is completely healthy, just a bit tuckered, Newt gives it a gentle stroke on the head and pads off. 

He finds Tina at what was the only empty surface of his worktable. Now, she has set down her own papers and is staring at them through nearly closed eyes. Newt lingers on the fringe of earshot, scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully. The bubbly feeling has returned to his stomach at the sight of Tina, blissfully unaware of his presence. _Why can’t we just be normal together?_ Newt shoves a dirty hand into his pocket as he always does whenever he’s deep in thought. Their fireside conversation had been magically simple in the way they spoke, yet very extensive in the subjects they covered. When they woke, it was like amnesia had struck. Only near the end of the day did the couple (couple? Newt shakes his head) stop their fidgeting. Newt doesn’t want to screw this up. Not this time. 

He takes a few silent steps towards Tina and lays a hand on her shoulder. She’s colder than he had imagined she would be and decides then and there to crank up the heat in her room.   
“Wha-what’s goin’ on?” Tina’s eyes snap open and her feet shoot out from under her.   
“It’s okay, I was just waking you up.” says Newt softly, noting the way she rubs her neck and winces in pain. It must be nearly 2:00 AM! Tina swivels her head, still cocked to the side as she rubs her neck, and blinks gratefully at Newt.   
“How is the owl?” she asks, stifling a yawn.   
“Fine. Perfectly fine. You, however,” Newt, having a few ounces more of courage since his deep thinking bravado, tugs at her arm with his hand. She shakes her head glumly before her jaw splits in two with an uncontrollable yawn.   
“You need some sleep, c’mon.” Newt pulls Tina from her seat. She gives him a defiant stare, despite being several inches shorter than him and extremely exhausted. Suffice to say, it doesn’t take much convincing before Tina finds herself flopping onto Newt’s bed.

He leans against the doorframe, one hand still buried in his trousers, and wonders if Tina will really fall asleep in such a mangled position. His answer comes in the form of a snore. Despite his best attempts to simply turn away and shut the door, he finds himself creeping to Tina’s bedside (well, technically his bedside). He grabs the nearest blanket and lays it gently across her, letting his fingers ghost her shoulder blade before straightening back up. He creeps out of the room and shuts the door, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. 

Tina was back with him, resting comfortably. He had a job to do that, hopefully, would lend her some help. Maybe he could get up early and whip up some flapjacks? _Very American…_ he drifts into dreamworld, sprawled out on the couch with his head nestled into a pillow.


	10. Convincing Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina plans a possible extraction mission with Theseus, but they're in need of Newt's help to convince Cocoa the owl to lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up! I have family in at the moment and peace and quiet has been pretty much impossible around here. Enjoy this longer chapter!

Tina is awake. She doesn’t recall having that dreary feeling that follows the first fluttering of the eyelids, but she is most certainly awake. Daylight streams through curtains of the bedroom window, confusing her to no end. Her apartment windows only let in light at exactly 12:33 P.M during the spring! _Oh, right_ … Tina can’t say she’s disappointed to be waking up in Newt Scamander’s apartment. What was that heavenly smell? Something was mingling with the oh-so delicious scent of coffee. 

The previous day replays in her mind as she blinks the morning into existence. The information and the stakes come flooding back to her. _Thirteen innocent lives_ … Tina is on her bare feet, pulling the bedroom door slightly ajar. The sight that greets her is immediately lodged in her memory. Newt stands in the kitchen, whistling a low tune as he pulls open every cupboard, obviously in search of an elusive ingredient. He wears a clean and crisp waistcoat of dazzling blue shade and his hair is wet from a recent wash. The ginger strands are now dark and flattened (for the time being). Tina, in comparison, feels terrible in her day old outfit and unwashed head. 

Newt stops whistling and swivels as Tina opens the door and steps out, smiling softly. It’s safe to say that Tina can tell Newt is struggling with his emotions. A smile flashes, but then it recedes into heavy blinking as he turns away and continues stirring whatever lays in front of him. One hand sneaks its way to his pocket as he works. 

 

“Good morning.” says Newt, still mixing.  
“You let me sleep late.” Tina remarks, nodding to the clock on the wall. It was nearly 9:00 in the morning! She had people to investigate and places to go, as well as spells to cast.   
“You stayed up late.” Newt counters teasingly. He pours a steaming cup of coffee and sets it down before her. She instinctively wraps her fingers around the mug, letting the warmth spread through her hand until it causes her entire body to tingle.   
“Cream or sugar?” Newt offers, but Tina is already taking a huge swish. He grins again before turning around. 

They sit in companionable silence for a decent amount of time. Tina gathers her thoughts and Newt pours his batter over a hot griddle, apparently making flapjacks. The coffee isn’t the bed she’s had (probably because Newt is a tea-drinker), but there’s a hint of something that makes it seem ten times more delicious than coffee made from Queenie. She can’t pinpoint it.   
It’s difficult to concentrate without papers in front of her, but Newt’s kitchen table is the only place she can think of gracing with her presence. Her coffee was there, her breakfast was there and her… well, you can guess the rest.

“About that owl…” Newt’s wand tip flicks and a flapjack spins through the air, landing with a heavy thud. Tina takes another swig of her black goodness before relaying the day’s events to him, not forgetting to mention Theseus’ greeting. 

“-and so I was hoping you could find a way to track where the owl came from.” Tina concludes. She leans back in her chair and watches as Newt’s gears begin to turn. It’s a spectacular sight, really. His brain doesn’t function in her presence unless they happen to be talking about a magical creature. When that happens, he lights right up and buries himself in thought.

“It’s easier tracking something that doesn’t have wings.” Newt comments, poking at a pancake before deeming it worthy enough to be plated. Accompanied with a pat of butter, a pool of syrup and a fork and a knife, the plate lands in front of Tina. She doesn’t hesitate before digging into the scrumptious flapjack.   
“What if you followed the owl by broom?” Newt asks, turning to face her while a pancake dangled in midair. Tina chews thoughtfully, regarding this idea as a decent one. They wouldn’t have a lot of manpower to spare. They would potentially be flying straight into a Red Zone (an area of dangerous counter enchantments and enemies), but that might also mean that they would stumble across Jackknife and maybe Deval and rescue them. 

Newt seats himself across from Tina, running a rough hand through his drying hair. The uncombed-look has returned and his bangs are becoming much curlier. 

“What?” Newt asks between a chew. Tina shakes her head. She _wasn’t_ staring.   
“Would Grindelwald expect it?” Tina remarks quickly, as as to avoid the awkwardness that was threatening to rain on their parade. Newt pours an unhealthy amount of syrup over his pancake before speaking.   
“Have you ever done anything like this before?”   
“We’ve never even received a message like this before.” _Potential hostage_. The idea settles over Tina and dampens her mood until her flapjack tastes like foam. Maybe Grindelwald, or whoever had sent the badge, was holding Jackknife hostage. The three aurors had to be linked, seeing as they disappeared on the same day. It’d be easier if Tina knew exactly why they had gone missing. If they knew too much, chances were they were already dead. 

Tina pushes her half-eaten pancake away. A rock has settled in the pit of her stomach, blocking any chance of a decent breakfast.   
“Talk to Theseus.” Newt suggests, although he says it in a tone of reluctance. Tina immediately recognizes it as a tone she has used when talking about Queenie. She hated the fact that she could recall several instances in which she has forked something over to Queenie. She was, after all, a warmer person who always knows exactly what to say. She was prettier, by far, and ten times more popular in school.   
_Stop that._ Tina digs her fingernails into the wooden chair. She absolutely adores Queenie. They grew up together and know each other in and out. The envy had been stronger during their school days, before Tina became an auror and had no time to think about her insecurities. However, knowing that Newt struggled with the same doubts heartened her. Admittedly, she could understand why. Theseus was tall, broad and grizzled from his time in the war, as well as his dangerous days as an auror. When he walked, he carried an air of confidence. When he talked, his voice rumbled like an avalanche destroying a valley. Yes, Theseus was quite different from Newt. That did not mean that Newt was the lesser of the two, just as Tina was not the lesser of Queenie. 

“Will you come with me?” Tina asks abruptly. Newt looks up from his second pancake, his eyes wide and completely visible between damp strands of hair. Tina falls to pieces. Life keeps switching perspectives, like it can’t quite make up its mind. One minute, she’s seeking out Grindelwald and saving lives, but the next she is staring at Newt’s face and practically melting.   
“To talk to Theseus, will you come with me?” Tina repeats, lessening the shakiness in her voice to possibly calm Newt down. He appears to be anything but calm.   
“Yes. Sure. Of course!” Newt struggles over the pancake he has pocketed in the side of his mouth. He gives a cough, swallows and smiles bravely. _A little kid,_ Tina muses. 

_______________

Newt hates the Ministry of Magic headquarters. Heads turn to face him and smirks pass over lips at the sight of his _suddenly-famous_ case swinging at his side. The security definitely tail him throughout his entire journey through the building. He feels slightly better being next to Tina, who strides purposefully through the halls, as if she has worked here every day of her life. Despite any emotional link he feels (or the physical link of having her hold his arm that he desperately wants), her courage doesn’t rub off on him. She was trusting him to give advice the subject of three missing aurors and tracking an owl. He was only qualified for the latter and extremely afraid of screwing up the former 

Theseus isn’t difficult to find. As a senior auror, he has his very own (polished, Newt might add) office in which he works. When they enter, Theseus is not-so-handsomely poring over his work. Newt feels slightly uplifted, then immediately terrible thinking such a thing.

“Have a seat.” Theseus waves his hand and two chairs pop into existence. His older brother hasn’t removed his eyes from a long, yellowed sheet of paper covered in indecipherable characters. His pinky fingers glides under the lines and his free hand flies over a notebook, copying down words in English. When Tina and Newt finally settle in the chairs, he looks up with his trademark smolder. Tina begins. She rolls out every important fact to a very attentive Theseus. Newt fiddles with the handle of his suitcase as she speaks. He’s feels useless compared to Theseus, who has a much better mind for investigation. 

“Follow the owl by broom?” Theseus raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t immediately scoff at the idea. Tina casts a sidelong glance in Newt’s direction with an encouraging smile.  
“Newt’s idea.” she adds. Theseus, to say the least, is surprised. Newt can understand why. Ever since his graduation from Hogwarts (it almost didn’t happen, mind yu), Newt had distanced himself from the rest of his family. They weren’t terrible people, but they were human. Humans had expectations and Newt could never meet those expectations. 

Newt doesn’t allow himself to wonder if he’ll eventually disappoint Tina, especially with the owl situation. Some owls can actually be ordered to not return packages, and it’s extremely likely the owl will obey the order at all costs. After all, their livelihood rests on the mail system. 

“Newt?” Theseus is looking at him, obviously able to tell that his little brother has immersed himself in worry. Newt looks up and clears his throat, drumming fingers against the beaten leather of his suitcase. Believe it or not, it was a brand new suitcase when he first began enchanting it to house his creatures. Carrying the beasts became much easier, rather than stuffing them in cages and taking up an entire train car to deliver. 

“The owl may not cooperate fully.” Newt says, quickly following it with his reasoning. Theseus leans back in his chair, hands folded across his chest. Newt is reminded just how much older his brother is. Despite their similar stature and looks, Theseus is noticeably aging in his face and hair. Newt wonders how long it will be before his brother’s brusque personality will dwindle. Newt is jolted from his reverie by a hand on his arm. 

“You can do it, though. Right?” Tina sounds encouraging, but Newt doesn’t register anything except the burning sensation on his arm. What he would have said (had he been competent at the time) would have gone along the lines of _“It’s extremely difficult to go against something that owls have been taught since birth.”_ Instead, Newt just lifted his eyes and gave a dopey look to Tina. There was something different about this touch. Sure, she had held onto his arm before, but he saw it as a comforting technique. After all, he had been a mess after their departure from Hogwarts. Now, she was voluntarily placing her hand on his arm, a sign of affection that meant the world to Newt. His blood roared in his ears and he felt his ears flush pink as he struggled to string together more than two syllables. He finally manages when fueled by enough embarrassment. Tina and Theseus exchange worried glances.   
“Hard to go again instinct!” he splutters. 

 

As always, the world keeps spinning. The morning continues to drone on while Tina and Theseus become very animated in their plans. Theseus is leaning towards an investigation, whereas Tina is arguing in favor of a full-scale retrieval mission. Tina’s hand slipped from Newt’s arm during a gesture that required both limbs. 

“How many can we take?” asks Tina. The seriousness of her tone makes Newt look up just in time to see Theseus’ eyes narrow.   
“Admittedly, we have almost no aurors to spare.” he says. Newt marvels at his brother for maintaining eye contact at such a time. Newt would have been out of the room by now. There’s no shame in admitting that your country has been having a severe drought when it comes to aurors. This was another thing Newt kept his eye on after his experience with Grindelwald. The amount of aurors in training were dwindling, and the seasoned veterans were nearly gone. Even Newt could tell the Ministry is strained, and he rarely ever goes into his office. 

“Reese and Hooper?” Tina mentions hopefully. Theseus’ look is enough to concern anyone. As a senior auror, Theseus is demanded to think of the bottom line. During the war, this became second nature. Perhaps that was why he and Newt began drifting apart, but it was too late to linger on old grievances. Theseus could only be wondering what would happen if the entire operation went south. Two great aurors from M.O.M dead (or captured, but most likely dead), and one (extremely talented and absolutely) amazing auror from MACUSA also dead. They run the risk of falling right into Grindelwald’s hands.

“I’ll go.” Newt offers boldly. Silence hits the room like a wave. There’s the gentle tick tock of a clock, accompanied by a slightly higher pitched ping from a watch Theseus wears around his wrist.   
“What?” Newt snaps, anger flaring within his chest. After all, he was going to be the one to convince the owl to fly. He should be there, if only for the owl’s sake. While Theseus glares at him in disapproval, Tina watches him with… is that _admiration?_ Newt is suddenly very nervous.   
“You never were a dueler, brother mine.” Theseus mumbles, probably hoping that Tina wouldn’t hear such a personal claim. Newt’s knuckles turn white from grasping the arm of the chair too hard. He could remember the blunt pain of his body slamming against the ground while jeers rang through the air. He was always too late to the draw; never able to block a spell; never capable of keeping a hold of his wand.   
“I’ve been practicing.” Newt mutters through gritted teeth, but this isn’t enough to deter Theseus from ensuring that Newt stays in London. This time, he is being much more vocal. 

“It’d give mother a heart attack, for one thing. You have a higher chance of getting killed-”  
“And you will have a higher chance of failing.” Newt counters, matching Theseus’ gaze with a stare of defiance. Brother vs. Brother is like fighting fire with fire: neither will win and will most likely cause more problems than they will solve. Tina, ultimately deemed a bucket of cool water, interjects into their staring contest with an opinion of her own. 

“He would be useful, Theseus.” Tina’s voice cuts the tension like a knife. Theseus flicks his gaze to rest on her, but Newt breathes an obvious sigh of satisfaction. The urge to reach out and scandalously hug Tina is strong, so he averts his gaze and brings his case up to his stomach.   
“Very well, but I have to come, too.” Theseus shakes his head in mock dismay as he rises to his feet, teetering on the spot for a moment. It’s apparent that, unlike Newt or Tina, Theseus didn’t get a full night of rest. Technically speaking, Newt hadn’t slept very much either. He rested for about an hour before deeming a full sleep impossible and retreating to his Newtcase- _suitcase_!-to tend to chores. He found it much more relaxing than sleep. 

“I’m making it a voluntary mission, Tina.” Theseus warns as Tina gets to her feet with the intention of leaving. Newt follows her lead and hops to the door, opening it wide for her, but she waves him forward. Theseus apparently has something private to say. 

Newt waits outside the varnished doors, listening to the _clack-clack_ of heels on tile somewhere in the distance. Tonight at exactly 7:00, he’d board a broom and release Cocoa (yes, he named the owl Cocoa. He discovered that her feathers matched the way a freshly mixed pot of hot cocoa would look) and embark on a potentially fatal mission. Well, he had said that quite a number of times about other places. This was different. This was new. He’d have Tina with him, as well as Theseus, two of the people he wanted to stay alive the most. 

“C’mon, Newt.” Tina steps out of Theseus’ office, her face ghostly pale and her eyes darting across the room. Newt falls into stride beside her, feeling doubly concerned.   
“What’s wrong?” he asks. Like he flipped a switch, Tina’s white skin returns to its regular creamy shade (not that Newt noticed) and her eyes settle on the walk ahead. Her hand slips through his arm and rests in the crook of his elbow. It isn’t her leading him as she had done during their first meeting in New York. They were walking _together_. This was enough to shut Newt up.

_______________

“I know it might be hard to tell, but my brother adores you.” 

The words keep replaying in Tina’s head as she and Newt plop themselves at a desk. She regrets fleeing from Theseus’ presence, but what reply could she offer? She was willing to believe that Theseus merely said that so she’d keep Newt away from the mission, so as to (possibly) save his life. Yet, somehow, she doesn’t quite think that’s true. Theseus may be the somewhat grouchy older brother that she hears of in novels, but he doesn’t seem like the type to play with Newt’s emotions, or anyone close to him. Tina wanted Queenie by her that instant. It was too difficult sorting through emotions when you couldn’t even read them. 

 

“I’ll go talk to Cocoa.” Newt announces, getting to his feet and tossing his case onto the chair. Tina knows that she should stay at her desk while Theseus gets the word out about the voluntary mission, but the case has a powerful aura that draws her into its enchantments. 

Newt is a fast mover once within the realm where he is most comfortable. He navigates the maze of lairs expertly until coming to the dark cubby in which Cocoa rests. Whether Newt is unaware of her presence, Tina is not sure, so she hovers by the nearest corner. He strokes the owl’s head and coos at it, matching the hoots that the barn creature emits.   
“She’s restless.” says Newt, also politely informing Tina of his knowledge of her presence, as well as that he has just checked to be certain that the owl is, indeed, a female.  
“She’ll have a long flight tonight.” Tina answers, taking a step towards Cocoa. Cocoa raises her eyes in recognition and flaps her wings, causing a few stray feathers to flutter through the air. 

Tina is sidelined for the process of getting Cocoa to communicate. Newt has shed his coat and is now in his waistcoat and pants with his sleeves rolled up. Tina’s eyes get lost tracing the hundreds of scars that line his pale, marred skin.   
“Cocoa, can you fly this back to where it came from?” Newt asks, pulling Jackknife’s shiny badge from the paper bag. Cocoa leans forward and takes a hard peck at it before squawking in indignation. Tina’s heart falls. Newt is certainly the best man for the job of handling an animal, but he isn’t a miracle worker. If they spend too much time hoping for a miracle, Grindelwald gets further ahead. 

“Don’t think like that.” Newt mutters. Tina’s head jerks up to find that he is staring at her, fingers gently running the length of Cocoa’s head. Even the bird is staring at her intently. Is Newt a Legillimens now, too? In any normal situation, Tina would drop it. She would stand up and leave, feeling unwanted, and make better use of herself somewhere else. Newt’s voice is what stopped her. It wasn’t harsh or reprimanding, it was gentle. Maybe Theseus was right. She shouldn’t bring Newt on their mission. If he were to die… 

Tina, what’s wrong?” hadn’t she said the same thing to Newt at Hogwarts? Tina sucks in a breath around the lump forming in her throat. What was wrong? She was _terrified_. Rightfully so, too, but she still hated being scared. All her life, she had to be the strongest of the strong. She had to care for Queenie and always keep a stiff upper lip, especially after the death of their parents. She had done it successfully her whole life, but now she was on the verge of breaking down when she was needed most. It was like one giant game of Wizard’s Chess, but her team was outnumbered and doomed. There were too many players to consider-Newt, Theseus, Deval, Jackknife, Peckings… the list was much too long for Tina to think about without welling up with tears. 

“He’s always a step ahead of us. He’s winning.” _There, I said it_. Tina immediately becomes wracked with guilt over saying it, because this is exactly what Grindelwald wants. He wants chaos and disorder amongst those trying to fight him so he can easily assume power. Now Newt knows that she isn’t the stoney faced person she always attempts to be. She’s Tina Scamander, an auror who has the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. 

The only source of hope comes from the way Newt picks his way across the floor and stands in front of Tina. His arms open from their clasped position behind his back and Tina, dazed, finds herself falling into them, head against the chest buttons of his vest. Warm (and somehow Tina manages to note: muscley) arms wrap around her, holding her tightly and steadfastly. 

His thumbs make soft circles on her back as Tina unabashedly sobs into his chest, her hands reaching up to rest on his stomach. He makes tiny sounds of encouragement each time a particularly vicious sob causes her to hiccup. It spills over her; every doubt, worry and pain that she has kept on her mind for the past weeks. Tina is vaguely aware that she must be horrifying Newt with this sudden outburst. Temporarily blinded from the stress of it all, she simply doesn’t care. If what Theseus says is true, Newt adores her...

They stand like that for what seems like hours. Newt’s tall, lean frame connected with Tina’s slightly shorter size. His large hands rub her back, sometimes pressing her head tighter into him if he was feeling especially brave. When at last the final sob withdrew from Tina, Newt’s hands fell to her arms and held her tightly. 

“He’s not winning.” Newt says, his voice a wisp of the fire that gleams in his eyes. Eyebrows raised, the ginger magizoologist continues his proclamation of faith.   
“Grindelwald is evil and he represents evil. Evil cannot win if there’s still love in the world.” Newt, for once, is maintaining eye contact like a champion. Tina finds her fingers traveling over his scarred skin, tracing the faint outlines like roads on a map. His words hit her one at a time. He speaks them with admirable passion and acute correctness. Tina takes a deep, steadying breath and nods. 

 

“You’re right.” she whispers. It seems like the perfect opportunity to kiss him (on the cheek). In fact, Tina is really trying hard not to.   
“Isn’t that right, Cocoa?” Newt turns to Cocoa, proffering an arm to her. She begrudgingly accepts and steps forward, eyes fixed on him. Tina selfishly wonders if Newt was only speaking to convince Cocoa to accept the mission (Tina was still confused on how communication with owls worked). These doubts instantly melted away when Newt returned to her side, an owl on one arm as his free hand rested on her back. 

“Everything will be fine.” he assures her in a quiet voice. She believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few AHH notes:
> 
> Tina knows exactly when the sun comes through her window because she's just like that, okay!!??!?
> 
> They're HOLDING each other. HOLDING. 
> 
> That is all.


	11. Confringo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina, accompanied by Dana Reese, Theseus Scamander and Arwin Blanche, take off (literally) on their mission to find the three missing British aurors. Hint: fighting ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: Cruciatus Curse, explosions and enchanted grass! Oh, yes, there is also a death...

Newt is sure he has gone crazy. He isn’t running a fever and he definitely isn’t under the control of the Imperious Curse, so being insane is the only possible conclusion for his actions. Not only has he _hugged_ Tina Goldstein within a day, but he has quite literally held her in his arms and attempted to speak words of comfort. Hopefully, he did some good.  
The moment was over in a flash when Newt and Tina were shaken away from each other with a loud knock from the outside world. 

While Tina discussed battle plans and tactics with Dana Reese and Theseus, Newt fled to his case and continued flattering Cocoa. Disrespect would get him nowhere with the elegant creature. Between compliment sessions, he ran curses and hexes through his memory. When he was quite sure Tina or Theseus wasn’t lurking around a corner, he practiced a few spells on straw dummies. They were incinerated surprisingly quickly. Newt did all of this, of course, to avoid the terror clawing at his chest. 

_What if Tina gets hurt?_  
Newt throws a halfhearted hex and watches it fizzle out before hitting the intended target (a sack of dirt). 

_What if Theseus gets hurt?_  
Even his cleaning spells don’t work quite right. Newt collapses into a pile of gangly limbs and allows his head to fall into his grimy hands. He had grasped Tina like he always wanted to, feeling (at last) close to her, both physically and emotionally. She had actually listened to his words and taken solace in them. Apparently, it was his turn to break down.

He truly believed every word he said to Tina, but it didn’t make the mission any easier. Cocoa was definitely coming around, but what would happen when they arrived at their destination? Tina could get seriously injured- _killed_ -and Newt would be there, most likely powerless.

“Newt!” the unmistakable boom of Theseus echoes throughout the suitcase. Newt collects himself, wiping the dripping snot from his nose and hoping the dampness of his eyes doesn’t show. He finds Theseus ambling straight towards the Erumpet enclosure and manages to catch his attention before it is too late. 

“Problem, Theseus?” asks Newt, standing bracingly before his taller, older brother. Theseus scratches his beard, eyeing Newt with a gaze of suspicion. Newt rolls his eyes and turns away. He was used to this scrutiny. Ever since Hogwarts, Theseus had a very special way of discovering if Newt was hiding something. Theseus would catch him after a dangerous ramble through the Forbidden Forest and eye Newt warily, scratching his chin (although back then, he only had a few whisker sprouts). Newt reaches a finger to his chin and wonders if he should try growing a beard. His stubble was getting rather out of control, actually. 

“She’s a good auror, Newt.” Theseus announces, as if it’s news to Newt. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Newt knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that Tina is an incredible auror and an amazing person. He worries that will never get to express that to her, especially with danger looming closely.  
“I know.” Newt replies mildly, trying to appear preoccupied with an inspection of his facial hair. In reality, he’s giving his hands something to do to avoid trembling. Theseus, knowing his brother all too well, leaves it alone. After all, they wouldn’t want an argument before waltzing straight into Grindelwald’s hands. 

_______________

The nightmare begins when Newt becomes the center of attention. Four aurors stand in front of him, brooms in arm (it reminds him scarily of that shifty girl, Darla Fey) and grimaces on their lips. Cocoa perches on his shoulder, hooting softly as her head swivels from side to side. Tina stands beside a woman of similar height, Dana Reese, who in turn stands very close (suspiciously close) to Theseus. The fourth auror is a young chap whom Newt doesn’t recognize. Theseus had introduced him as Arwin Blanche, an auror fresh from training. He had been the first volunteer for the mission. Night was falling fast outside and Theseus had already debriefed everyone on the plan. Newt didn’t like fancy tactics, so he decided to coin “Get in, investigate (maybe rescue) and get out.” to help him remember. 

“We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.” Theseus concludes, nodding to Cocoa. Newt licks his dry lips and swallows hard against the parched walls of his throat. He looks down at Cocoa, whose gaze is already boring into his. At that exact moment, it all clicks. Cocoa knows Newt respects her. She knows that Newt is a creature lover and is the one who provided her with a warm bed and delicious treats. The others are strangers, and she doesn’t do favors for strangers.  
“Right, uhm… Might be best if you all ask her yourself.” Newt speaks loudly. Cocoa turns slowly to face the group. Arwin and Laura exchange dumbfounded expressions while Newt sees a smile tugging at the edges of Tina’s lips. She nods encouragingly to Newt, who finds himself standing a smidge taller. 

Blanche, surprisingly, is the first to step forward. Locks of sandy hair atop a tan face with icy blue eyes, the boy is struggling to wear the look of an innocent, pleading victim. Nonetheless, he manages a sort of stoop that resembles a bow.  
“Cocoa, it’d be great if you could…” Blanche glances back at Theseus. Newt wonders if he expects laughter. In such a serious situation, humor lingers only in memory.  
“If you could show us where you picked up the badge, you’d be saving lives.” Blanche finishes quickly and backs up, nearly banging into Theseus, who just so happens to be next in line. While Newt knows he shouldn’t enjoy watching Theseus squirm, he does think his brother could learn a thing or two about respect for nature. 

Growing up, Newt and Theseus had many chores related to taking care of the prize hippogriffs their mother bred. While this enchanted Newt and opened up the path he’d eventually follow for his career and lifestyle, it merely allowed Theseus to become assimilated with magical creatures. He never studied the hippogriffs, nor did he research other magical beasts further. He did not possess the respect that comes from years of being humbled by nature. 

“Cocoa…” Theseus’ clears his throat and puts his hands on his legs before lowering his giant frame until he’s eye-to-eye with Cocoa.  
“The world _needs_ you to do this. Just imagine what it will be like if Grindelwald wins! Half the population, no mail to deliver-” Theseus is getting into the logistics. It doesn’t surprise Newt in the least. He’s quick to interrupt. 

“How about it, Cocoa?” Newt says loudly, ignoring Theseus’ angered glare. His older brother straightens up and runs his hand down the length of his silver waistcoat. Cocoa is staring at Newt now. He can almost see the indecision, but he can feel the goodness tugging at her heart. She’s a good bird. A beautiful bird! She’ll make the right choice. On cue, Cocoa flutters her wing and gives a hoot of approval. It was time to go. 

 

Everything happened in a whirlwind after that. Five humans and a bird Disapparated to the roof of the M.O.M building, greeted with a view of darkening London. The sun was nearly gone in the distance and workers were ambling home. The stench of cigarette smoke and factory discharge reeked in the air, but Newt was positive that they’d be flying to clearer skies very soon. 

“Ready?” Tina is at his side, standing on the edge of the roof with him. They had done the exact same thing six months previously in New York. This was after they had escaped a death sentence. Newt looks down at his hand, wondering if it would be appropriate to hold her’s… 

“Newt? Tina?” Theseus calls them back to the huddle. Although they’re in the dark for most of the mission (literally and figuratively), they manage to piece together a decent plan in the scenario of a hostage situation. Each of them wish each other good luck. Newt has left his case in the care of maximum security with the Ministry of Magic, as well as instructions on how to take care of it in the event that things go wrong. Terribly wrong. 

Cocoa is released and the group kicks off. The chilly night air stings their faces as they zoom into the clouds with Cocoa’s barely-visible body leading the way. She swoops and dives and hoots, getting lost in the folds of fluffy clouds. Newt is shamelessly enjoying the broom ride. It has been years since he last rode so freely. In fact, it was probably a Hogwarts Quidditch game when he last rode a broom. He hadn’t been the best chaser, but he certainly hadn’t been the worst. 

Although there was the omnipresent din of the wind rushing past his ears, Newt was just within range of Theseus’ thundering voice saying “MY BROTHER IS QUITE THE FLYER!”. The intended recipient (Tina, namely) nodds in agreement. Newt was grateful that it was too dark to see red cheeks. The whole group consisted of decent riders, although Theseus was always hard pressed to ride one. He always flew slower, due to his muscular build and weight. During Quidditch season, Newt finally became grateful for his lean build. Flying swiftly through the foggy night skies, Newt could tell Theseus had finally found himself the right broom. 

They fly together at incredible speed for nearly two hours. The sky becomes dotted with silver stars embedded in royal blue. Residential areas become farms enclosed in lines of trees that sway in the wind. Cocoa loses altitude steadily, sometimes glancing back to make sure her group was still on her tail. With a caw and a dive, Cocoa signifies their destination was up ahead. The flyers regroup.

“What can you see?” asks Newt, hovering slightly above the others. The aurors lean forward and squint, staring down through the darkness. Through the clear, chilly night, they could see the outline of a farmhouse. Not much else could be spotted from the air, so as a silent army, the group descends until their feet sink into waist-high grass.  
“Need to mow.” Newt mutters, finding his way to Tina’s side. She nods, but says nothing. Her eyes are alight with the glow of the moon and her steps are purposeful, but also careful.

“Abandoned?” Theseus whispers over his shoulder. Tina and Reese make sounds of agreement and they plod onward, crouched in the grass. It makes perfect cover. When Newt meanders to the front of the group, he can tell that the building is quite old. An old-fashioned farmhouse sits in front of them, decrepit and dark in every window. Theseus begins muttering an incantation, waving his wand steadily in the darkness. A silvery wisp appears at the end and snakes into the air, disappearing without a trace. 

“There’s no protective spells. None of the ordinary ones, anyway.” Theseus whispers. The general countenance was that of anxiety. Sweat glistened on the forehead of each of them, despite the chilly spring night. The ground squished below their feet as they took cautious steps forward, wands aloft.  
“Do we go in together?” Reese asks in a small voice.  
“I estimate two doors and at least five windows.” Blanche informs them, standing up quickly for a quick look at the house. Newt exchanges a confused glance with Tina. How could someone be able to estimate the number of windows?  
“Dad’s an architect.” Blanche mutters below his breath. Newt could understand it. If you grow up knowing which styles of houses have what accessories, it would become second nature to use it in the field. Still, five windows was a lot to cover. 

“A group.” Theseus announces before forming a fist in the air. It was time to be silent. He often taught Newt these hands signals as he learned them at school, usually during their summers together. Theseus and Newt didn’t spend too much time in each other’s company during the school year. Theseus had a reputation for being cool and suave, whereas Newt had a reputation of the extreme opposite. 

Once his hand disappeared into the grass, the group inched forward. The grass was slightly shorter now, as well as prickly. It clung to their legs as they shuffled past, until at last it prohibited minor movements.  
“What the-” Theseus yanks a giant foot loose and stomps it down in front of him, only to have the grass reattach like opposing magnets to each other.  
“Newt!” Tina screeches (as much as one can screech while trying to maintain a whisper) as a particularly vicious strand lashes at her leg and tears a bit of fabric from her pants. He’s in the dark as to why she calls his name before he realizes they believe this grass is actually _alive_.  
“Not a creature!” Newt hisses, attempting to kick his legs free of the offending grass. It was a charm, no doubt, and an annoying one at that. It was making them loud and clumsy and unable to react as quickly in the event-the likely event-that hex casting would ensue. 

“ _Incendio!_ ” Theseus’ wand sends a solid torrent of fire into the grass, successfully deterring it from latching onto their legs. Newt grabs Blanche by the arm and pries him loose from an especially stubborn patch until they’re all standing in a circle of charred plant life.  
“I think we’re at the right place.” Newt offers unhelpfully. The following glares were sure to make him squirm, but they happened to be cut off. Darkness descended upon them in a blanket, so heavy that it began to pierce through them and weigh them down. Their ears were pierced by a shrill cry of pain that intensified with every passing minute, pulsing with emphasis. Yes, they were in the right place. 

_______________

Tina was sick to her stomach. The smoke rising from the ground planted a foul and acrid smell in her nose, but every other sense was getting attacked by the screams piercing the air. It took only a few seconds before Theseus blasted a path through the grass and the group quite literally stomped their way to the farmhouse. Newt overcame Theseus at the steps (which earned him a disapproving huff from the older of the two brothers) and barged through the open door. Cocoa loyally swooped around them, coming to land on Newt’s shoulder before Theseus kicked in the rickety door and they barrelled through the empty doorway. The screams were human. Tina didn’t think a human could make such a terrifying, pain-ridden noise, but someone was definitely releasing these sounds. While Tina wasn’t sure what her colleagues thought, she was convinced it was the Cruciatus Curse.

The next series of events would haunt Tina Goldstein’s memory for years to come. Upon busting into the house, they discover the screamer, a woman, in plain sight. Immediately, they see that her legs are chained together by heavy shackles and her arms and pinned uncomfortably behind her. Her body, on the other hand, was not so natural. Arching with rigidness, her body lays on a sofa as she cries out, tears flowing freely from her eyes, mouth foaming at the corners. 

“STOP!” Blanche, surprisingly, is the first to speak. A beam of blue light flies through the air, meeting a dark target in the corner. Tina’s vision only now registers a person, cloaked in black and a clutching a crudely shaped wand. In no case does a skirmish stop there; at least, not in the American cases Tina has seen. Whether Blanche intended to only stun the person, or if he mixed up his spells, no one asked later on. They only recall the defending of themselves as a retaliation hex shot towards them. Cocoa squawks in defiance and makes a mad, predatorial dive for the unnaturally dark corner. 

A flash of green hits her squarely in her tiny chest and she falls, lifeless, to the floor with a sickening thud.  
“NO!” Newt roars, streaking across the room faster than any spell could. Tina isn’t even sure if it’s Newt, but the head of shaggy ginger hair was unmistakable. Still, the characteristics of this Newt were foreign to her. His arm swung confidently through the air, sending a hex spiraling for the murderer of Cocoa. 

_CRACK!_

The figure disappeared after deflecting Newt’s spell.  
“THE WAND, GET THE WAND!” Theseus bellows. They all spring forward, shouting “Expelliarmus!” almost in unison. The wizard (or witch) that they were facing off with, however, was quick. They seemingly guessed their move and, in turn, a pale hand snaked out from under the robes and pointed towards the ground. 

“ _Confringo!_ ” It was the first spell that they had heard the cloaked figure utter. The voice was raspy, yet undeniably powerful. The realization of the spell hit Tina a split second before the actual explosion did. There was a streak of deep blue pressed against her as the rest of her vision turned to white. The ground rolled beneath her, although something gripped at her to slow her descent as her knees buckled. Dust stung her nose a sharp pain shot through the back of her head. Her vision was getting darker… blurrier…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry) for the cliffhanger! In the next few chapters, we will see some Newtina fluff, as well as more investigation and some startling discoveries. Stay tuned, folks, stay tuned…


	12. St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tender moments are shared in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Yes, this is very much a Newtina chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLLLLUUUFFFFFF! I think there's a really interesting dynamic that can be created between Tina and Theseus, you know? I feel like Theseus and Tina have their similarities, but their major difference is the understanding of Newt. Who knows him better? Hmmm, we'll see. Enjoy the fluff.

Tina’s eyes remain resolutely shut, but her brain is recording again. A terrifying second passes in which she is positive she’s still in the farmhouse, probably the only one who survived the explosion. When her senses flood back to her, bringing her the softness of the bed she lays on and the sounds of the surrounding hospital, she’s immediately comforted. One eye pops open to scan her room.

Daylight streams through a partially open window as a cool breeze cuts through the stuffy air. There’s a distant patter of feet and muffled voices, but Tina’s room is empty. Beside the closed door is a large window with the blinds shut tightly. Through the tiny gaps, Tina can make out figures moseying past. Her investigation was rudely cut off by a sudden throbbing in her head that made her groan in pain. Her whole body ached, but nothing appeared to be casted or bandaged. The headache was the only sizable ailment she could feel. As an investigator, the next step was to replay the recent events in her brain. It was concerningly fuzzy after Cocoa’s murder, but a few of the details stick out. Tina doesn’t want to admit to herself what had pressed itself against her before the blast. Blue and solid? Only one thing came to mind… 

“Miss Goldstein.” the door swings open and a short, stout, round-faced woman waddles into the room with a bright smile on her cherry red lips.   
“I’m Mrs. Jones, your healer.” the lady says cheerily enough, motioning to her bright green uniform. During their late night chats, Newt had mentioned something about the funny uniforms of healers. Tina lets Mrs. Jones take her pulse and ask her a number of questions before interrupting the woman with her own burning curiosities. 

“Do you know what happened to my partners?” Tina asks hastily, sitting up in her seat to be sure she hears Mrs. Jones’ answer. There’s a brief silence in which Mrs. Jones won’t lift her eyes from the clipboard that floats beside her. A quill is scrawling something quickly, but it stops when Mrs. Jones fails to answer.   
“They’re all alive and mending.” Mrs. Jones announces, putting on an artificial smile in obvious attempts to settle Tina’s nerves. It has the opposite effect by the time the healer leaves the room, leaving Tina to imagine what horrifying events took place after she got knocked out. 

“Come in!” Tina shouts, a bit over zealously. The door swings open, revealing a rather beaten Theseus. Despite the arm he nurses in a sling and the slight limp to his left leg, he smiles as if nothing is wrong.   
“What the hell happened last night?” Tina snaps before Theseus can get a word out. He stops short of the bed and runs a hand through his beard. His pause is enough to give Tina the symptoms of a heart attack.   
“Thesues, _what happened?_ ” Tina glares at him until he begins speaking.   
“Everyone is on the mend, Tina, so don’t worry. Reese and Blanche just got a bit jostled, that’s all…” Theseus is skirting around Newt’s name, infuriating Tina to her boiling point. She stands, ignoring Theseus’ presence entirely as she strides towards the door, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness that washes over her. As she reaches Theseus and makes her way around him, he reaches out his free hand and places a single finger on her elbow. She stops, looking up at him with many explicit swears threatening to bust. 

“Follow me.” he whispers. 

The pair hurry into the hallway. Tina barely has any time to be self-conscious, but there is a moment in which she realizes she is running barefoot in an unappealing hospital gown. Theseus walks beside her, his long legs effectively carrying him over the distance without much hassle.   
“He heard the spell before it happened, Tina.” Theseus mutters, waving off a nurse that steps towards them threatenly, no doubt to toss Tina back into her room. They come upon a shut door and Theseus stops, placing a hand tentatively on the handle. He looks up at Tina with a grimace.   
“He jumped in front of you.” Theseus doesn’t give her time to react. He pushes open the door and shoves her in. She takes a first step and lingers in the doorway, soaking in the sight. 

The room is dim, lit only by a lamp in the corner. The curtains are drawn and the person in the hospital bed is shadowed. Newt, a mass comprised of bandages, a comedically short hospital skirt and gangly limbs, lays in bed on his stomach. His chin rests on crossed arms, but he doesn’t appear to be awake. Blood is visible through the wrappings that cover most of his back.  
“Go in.” Theseus whispers, giving her an encouraging push on the shoulder. Tina flashes him a defiant glance.  
“He was asking for you.” Theseus adds. This successfully melts Tina’s willpower and she slinks to the edge of Newt’s bed. A chair has already been drawn, corked in just the right direction for optimal arm reach. Tina bets that Theseus arranged it in this way, as she can’t picture him stroking his brother’s face consolingly. At all. Like, ever. 

The door shuts, leaving Tina and Newt with just each other. Tina doesn’t try to wake him, seeing fit instead to just breath him in. He was completely relaxed and entirely himself in his slumbering form. He wasn’t nervous or fidgety, nor was he up in his own head wondering which move to make. He was simply Newt Scamander. Tina likes to memorize the features of this Newt. There were faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes where his skin crinkled every time he smiled. His eyelashes were longer than Tina had ever noticed and she could easily count every freckle that sat on his face. Funniest of all were his arms, which were bare and easily viewed. In his sleep, he couldn’t self-consciously tug his sleeves over his scarred skin. 

Tina takes a steadying breath when she realizes that she’s acting like a lunatic. She leans back in her chair and swallows hard, giving her throbbing head a rest. In a few minutes time, she feels marginally more confident. Riding a deep inhale, she reaches forward for Newt’s face. Her fingertips ghost the skin of his forehead, brushing the fringe of his bangs off his face. He stirs at the touch. 

“Tina…” he mutters softly. Tina can’t honestly tell if he knows it’s her, or if he’s merely speaking her name upon his consciousness. The latter makes her blush, so she sticks with the former.   
“I’m here.” she whispers, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over her. His condition was all her fault. He had jumped in front of her to shield the blow! The fact that he would even think to do that astounded Tina. She could only think of one other person who would be willing to die for her (namely, Queenie). Queenie loves her older sister very much, but Newt didn’t do it out of sisterly love. At least, Tina didn’t _think_ he did. 

_______________

Newt’s eyes flutter open and he turns his head, resting his cheek on his arms as his green eyes rest on Tina’s face. She has retracted her hand and is merely smiling at him, tears glistening at the edges of her eyes. An unmistakable smile cross Newt’s lips, causing the dry skin to bleed.   
“Water?” he requests huskily. Tina is glad to provide him with a straw and a glass. 

“How do you feel?” Tina inquires gently after Newt takes a satisfying sip of icy water. He buries his face in his arms and sighs loudly.   
“I’ve been worse.” he decides, returning his cheek to his wrist so he can look at Tina. She instinctively reaches forward when his mop of hair falls over his eyes. His is fully awake and she is fully flabbergasted by her outwardness with this sign of affection. Still, it feels right. Newt doesn’t flinch. His eyes slide shut upon the touch. Her hand comes to rest on his arm. His breathing slows and a content look slackens his face. He drifts in and out of sleep until he dips into a steady slumber. 

Newt is in _pain_. Nothing he hasn’t felt before, actually, but it still stings anew. He finds himself unable to hold his eyes open. Whenever they close, some of the soreness from his injuries slip away. Still, when his eyes are open, he’s looking at Tina. He wants to be looking at her. He wants her to touch his face. Yes, that had felt quite nice. 

_Oh, you bumbling idiot…_ Newt doesn’t remember very much. He remembers seeing red (figuratively) and throwing curses at the man in black (he was fairly certain it was a man they were dealing with). He can recall the outline of the wand outstretched towards the floor, accompanied by the blasting spell. Well, his first instinct had just kind of overridden anything else. Jump in front of Tina! She was closest and, in smothering her with his own body, he took the brunt of the debris. Essentially, he had blown off his back and gotten shrapnel embedded in him for good measure. Figures. If anyone asked bothered to ask, though, he would tell them he’d do it all again. After all, Tina looked completely healthy. That was a good thing. A spectacular thing. Yes.

The hospital room was cozy, but suffocatingly so. His chest screamed in anger the longer he lay flat on his stomach and he was quite sure Tina could see more than he was comfortable with. Still, when she appeared at his beside, it was a major relief. An hour or two later, Newt sees two fuzzy outlines of nurses hauling Tina away, replacing her with Theseus. A disappointment, if Newt had to be honest.

_______________

Apparently, he was doing splendidly! Healer Jones dropped by every few hours, ignoring his awkwardly worded questions about Tina (“Is my Tina okay? No, not my Tina. Just Tina. Is Miss Goldstein alright?) to inform him that his skin was regrowing at a miraculous rate. Newt was on first name basis with most of the staff. He was in St. Mungo’s at least two times a year, usually nursing simple cuts that he must get professional assistance with. His last trip had been thanks to Pickett, actually. They bonded in the hospital room while Newt was getting bandaged. 

This injury was different. It hadn’t been inflicted by one of his fantastic beasts, nor had it been in protection of any of his fantastic beasts, so why had he jumped? He could say it was instinctive, but it was also a feeling much deeper than that. It was buried within his chest, but roared and bared its teeth whenever it got the chance to do so. It was strange, to say the least. 

“Mum and Dad want to see you.” Theseus announces, coming into the room on the second day of Newt’s recovery. Newt clearly states that he refuses to talk to his brother until a status update is given of Tina.   
“Held her overnight just in case. She’s getting dressed right now.” Theseus says, finally relenting.   
“Oh, also said something about picking up your case.” Theseus adds cheekily. If Newt could move, he would have smacked his brother.   
“I want to stand, Theseus.” Newt mutters, propping himself up on his elbows.   
“You’re not healed yet, brother mine.” Theseus answers with mild interest, flipping through a newspaper. Newt remains propped up on his elbows, liking the feeling of putting his arms to good use. 

_Tap, tap..._

The knocker doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing open the door. Tina, clad in her usual outfit of blues and blacks, steps into the room with a shy smile spreading across her lips. Newt is relieved to see Tina, happy and healthy, as well as to see an equally happy and healthy suitcase.  
“Theseus, the creatures need to be fed again.” Newt announces. Theseus lowers his newspaper enough to peer at Newt with a gaze of annoyance. Theseus had already done this particular chore for his brother at least four times. With a huff and whirl, Theseus gets to his, snatches the case from Tina and tosses it onto the nearest chair. He disappears into the lair, not to reappear for at least half an hour. 

“How are you?” Tina inquires, setting down a thick folder of papers before sitting. Newt has to admire the determined auror. According to her, she had continued her research on the case as soon as she was hauled back to her room. She had already tried talking to Deval, who was in poor condition. Newt gives himself the excuse that _this_ is why he jumped in front of Tina. She would do a lot more work with her back intact.   
“I want to walk.” Newt replies. Before Tina can object (which she will), Newt rolls himself onto his knees. His legs are shaky under the sudden weight at first, but his back doesn’t screech in reluctance as Newt would have expected. This is when Newt woefully realizes that he is wearing only a skirt and a blanket. His bandages make for a wonderful cover for his stomach and most of his chest, but his bony shoulders stick out like sore thumbs.   
“Newt, please be careful.” Tina hisses. Newt strikes out a foot, then another, and rolls himself into a walking position. He’s sore everywhere, but it feels good to stand up and breath again. When he turns, Tina is biting the nail of her thumb nervously. Is she really that nervous? She must not trust the healers. 

“I’m sorry!” Tina blurts out, much to Newt’s astonishment. What on earth is she sorry for? As far as Newt is concerned, she has done nothing wrong.   
“Sorry for what?” Newt asks, desperately wishing he had pockets to shove his hands into. They’re hanging limply at his skirt, but at the present time he can’t have himself be bothered by the fact that he’s practically in a dress. Tina’s eyes are filling with tears, but not the good kind. It’s not pity or sadness, nor is it happiness of seeing him recovered, but it’s guilt. Newt knows the look of guilt well from his Hogwarts days of being in complicity with Leta (Forbidden Forest excursions, usually). The Niffler wore it every day. 

“Tina, what’s wrong?” Newt’s voice is gentle. He steps closer to Tina, extending his arms as he had done in the suitcase just three days beforehand. Three days ago had been scary, but this was outright terrifying. He was no good at being physical, no good at all. His talking skills were marginally worse, so he settled himself with the lesser of two evils.   
“You didn’t have to do it, you know.” Tina says, shaking her head woefully. It’s obvious that she’s attempting to stem the flow of her waterworks. Tina Goldstein, one of the toughest women Newt has ever met is crying because of him. Not only did he feel terrible for Tina’s belief that Newt regretted the decision, but the grief of Cocoa still clawed at him. During his sleep, he saw flashes of green and heard her screech. His emotions were going haywire. He was completely unequipped for this situation. He’s going to make a mistake, he knows it. He’s going to randomly blurt something out and-

“I’d do it again.” it slips from Newt. Before he can retract the heavy statement, Tina finally looks at him with misty eyes.   
“Thank you.” she mumbles. Newt is urging himself to reach forward and hug her. It’d be a nice, simple gesture, right? He’ll just bring her in, give her a quick peck on the cheek. _No, NO. That is not what you do._ Newt is convinced he’s loopy from whatever potions Mrs. Jones had spoonfed him. If he doesn’t lie down, he’s going to make a serious mistake. 

At that second, Theseus appears from the suitcase.  
“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, GET BACK IN BED!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how did I do? I had these particular series of scenes planned out for awhile, as well as the next chapter, so some feedback would be amazing. 
> 
> Just a head's up, I've been having a smidge of writer's block because I've gotten addicted to The Office (took me long enough), so instead of writing I just binge-watch the show. It gives me inspiration sometimes, though, so that's nice... ANYWAY! March is an extremely busy time of year for me because of this sports thing I follow for the next two weeks, so my chapters might not get up quite so fast. Thanks for understanding.


	13. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Newt travel for the burial of the beloved owl, Cocoa. An interesting night out ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, stop with the Newtina chapters already! I couldn't help it. ALTHOUGH, there is an important little plot point in this chapter, so keep your eye on that. As I said in the previous chapter, I may not be posting as often for the next week or two. Please note: Cocoa's burial takes place in this chapter.
> 
> On the seventh day of London, Tina's true love gave to her...  
> A surprise visit to his pa-rents!

On Tina’s seventh morning in London, Newt was released from the hospital. They took the Floo Network to his flat, where he promptly opened his briefcase and descending into his lair. Tina followed. His workspace, no matter how cluttered, was actually a wonderful place to get things done. Newt disappeared into his workshop and began hammering for hours on end.

By supper time, Tina couldn’t fend off her doubts. Newt hadn’t spoken a word to her all day. He passed by in quick bursts of speed, grabbing materials from his storage shed and striding back to his workshop to continue pounding away. Meanwhile, Tina had made two trips by Floo to the M.O.M headquarters. She has sent two (or was it three?) owls to Barney Bones requesting information on the Brown family and their child. They were the only suspects that Tina felt she was moderately close to getting a handle of. She became increasingly concerned when archives showed no existence of the Brown’s. Even if you aren’t a very spectacular person, there’s a good chance a great relative is logged in the archives for being special. There were hundreds of families with the last name of Brown, none of whom had a daughter enrolled in Hogwarts. 

By 7:00 P.M, Newt hadn’t eaten. The pounding had ceased and Tina’s eyes were crossing as she pored over the same paper she had reread several times. It was enough to drive her insane, so she shoved her chair back and got to her feet. The ambient flow of Newt’s briefcase quickly invaded any of her previous thoughts, soothing her nerves. A stream trickled somewhere in the distance while creatures of all types called collectively.

Then came the fluttering of heavy wings. An owl swooped above Tina’s head before coming to a gradual stop in front of her, an envelope tied to its skinny foot. Tina scrambles to the drawer where Newt kept most of his owl treats and pays the delivery bird before taking the envelope with shaky hands. She was expecting so many replies, it was hard to know who had gotten back to her. When she rips open the envelope, the elegant handwriting was instantly recognizable. Tina seats herself and begins reading, relishing every word from her sister. 

_Dear Tina,  
I’m so glad you made it to New York safely and that Mr. Scamander and you reconnected. Honestly, Tina, I’m surprised I can’t hear your thoughts from across the ocean! By the time you receive this, I’m sure much will have happened and I want you to write every detail! Tina, whether or not you will even admit it to yourself, I know you like Newt very much. Be nice to him and try to spend time with him. He’s hurting very much, that I could tell, and he’ll need time to sort everything out. I’d elaborate on that, but it’s his story to tell._

[Queenie proceeds to write about the going-ons of New York. The general consensus is a mood of fear tinged with doubt]  
Stay safe, Tina. 

_P.S: I also wrote a letter to Newt. Please give it to him for me!_

_Love,  
Your sister_

Tina looks up in unabashed horror. If Queenie was writing Newt a letter, it was sure to contain something embarrassing. Newt already has a pile of letters he really must tend to and Tina doesn’t want to bother him. She glances at the stack, each marked with Newt’s name in increasingly angry handwriting. She reaches forward, aiming for the middle. If he decided to go from top to bottom, there was a good chance he’d overlook Queenie’s…

“Tina.” Newt is suddenly at her side, causing her to jump in her seat and knock the teetering tower of papers over. Flushing pink, she scrambles to push the tower back into a mound. Newt’s hand rests on her outstretched arm, successfully short-circuiting her brain. 

“I’m leaving for a bit.” Newt announces, none of his content self portrayed in his voice. Yes, “content” was a good word to describe Newt. He was never overjoyed, nor was he exceptionally dreary. He was always content with what he had. Of course, there were moments such as these that highlighted just how easygoing he could be. Something was drastically wrong.  
“Where?” Tina asks, not wishing to be nosy. She knows that Newt could be at risk of harming himself (sad as it is to say) over Cocoa’s death. 

“Ah, well…” Newt glances down at a heavy object resting behind his legs. A medium-sized, wooden box lays there, complete with red velvet inlaid on the inside and even some decorative paint strokes along the outside. A casket. A casket could only mean one thing: a burial. 

“I want to come.” Tina is intentionally staring down Newt. A series of readable emotions flash over his face. There’s the stirring of a memory, which then transcribes to a frown and a short look-away, and Tina can guess who Newt is thinking of. After all, her picture still sat in his supply shed (yes, she had gone snooping). Pushed back amongst some of the oldest, dustiest items, but still face-up and twinkling. 

“Y-You do?” Newt won’t meet her eyes. He’s choosing to stare at her ear, or somewhere close.  
“If that’s okay with you.” she answers, gentling her voice in hopes that it will calm him down. Queenie couldn’t have been closer to the truth. Newt certainly was hurting, and he was going to need time. She didn’t have very much of that, but she would lend herself wherever needed.  
“Yes, fine. Great. Ah…” Newt runs his hand down the lapel of his coat before nodding heavily.  
“We’ll leave in ten minutes.” 

_______________

Newt carries Cocoa. She’s wrapped up in a mound of warm blankets to block her corpse from the strong winds picking up on the countryside. Tina, holding onto one arm of his and clutching Cocoa’s box in the other, and Newt have just Apparated to the Scamander Farm. Amongst the rolling green hills of tiny farmhouses lays a large house, puffing smoke from the chimney and sporting a hippogriff or two in the skies above. When Newt sees the structure, memories flood through him and he struggles to keep a straight face. There’s summer days with Theseus, winter nights of him trudging through snow with barn creatures stuffed up his shirt for warmth (their warmth), and the rare visit from Leta. With a sickening dread, he swivels his head and let his eyes rest on the very same tree that Leta had kissed him below. He had been young then. His hair was shorter, he was skinnier (believe it or not) and prone to staring at Leta for hours on end. She had hated burials.

“Newt?” Tina tugs at Newt’s arm, breaking him from his trance. Feeling flushed, he mumbles an apology and begins the walk towards the spot he intended to bury Cocoa in. She had loved the late part of the day, as well as open country. Newt got the sense that this was a good place for her, and she’d be happy and honored. Sad as it is to say, it isn’t the first time Newt has come to this particular house. Owned and lived in by Miriam Scamander, Newt’s mother, the place oozed coziness into the bland countryside. It was a spot in which Newt felt comforted burying the creatures that didn’t make it. 

“Newt, who lives here?” Tina whispers, her voice nearly losing the battle against the chilly wind. Ah, yes. He had forgotten to mention to Tina that there was a good chance they’d be running into his mother. In fact, he had simply told her “We’ll leave in ten minutes” and she dressed within five. 

Newt becomes lost in a train of thought and forgets to answer Tina. Truth be told, Newt was struggling with which objective to focus on. Over the past week, his whole routine had gotten kickboxed into smithereens. His back had been blown off (for a great cause, he would shyly add) and there were still two aurors missing and Tina was hellbent on finding them. Cocoa’s death suckerpunched him, but it was also the easiest thing to focus on. He had been through the pain of losing an animal before. Although it stung, it was a somewhat familiar feeling to him. He need familiarity for just a little while longer. He had to get over this hump and he’d streamroll into Tina’s investigation, lending a hand wherever possible. First, Cocoa needed a proper send-off. 

The pair approach a barn, dark in each window and eerily quiet, before rounding the back of the building. In tiny, neat rows lay numerous wooden poles. In the darkness, the black ink is impossible to decipher, but each one holds a name and a date. Newt’s eyes start to smart, so he quickly looks away and pretends to be fixing Cocoa’s blankets. He doesn’t quite know how to hold her, so he goes with the newborn position. He had never held a baby before in his life, but his mother had showed him pictures. 

Although the act is routine, Newt labors with love. He cracks open his briefcase and summons a shovel. He digs the grave by hand, on the verge of losing it when Tina offers to held despite the lack of a second shovel. Then, wrapping Cocoa snugly, he lays her gently in the box. On top of the warm velvet, he has laid piles of hay and a few owl treats as a final goodbye. He lowers the casket into the grave and hastily covers it up, hating the bareness that is left thereafter. It was over. It was finally over. 

Newt sets his case in the grass, shoves his hands into his coat pockets and shuts his eyes, determined to keep the water from flowing. Usually, there wasn’t someone beside him. His mother might venture out of her domicile for the occasional send-off, but never had he felt someone huddled beside him, clinging to his arm. 

A prideful stirring catches Newt by surprise, quelling his tears and grief. He looks over, his eyes skimming the top of the brown head that lingers so wonderfully close to his shoulder. Nervous jitters shoot up his spine. He _needs_ to flinch, but he doesn’t want to. He’s sick of being so undecided all the time. 

Tina shivers violently against him. Newt is vaguely aware that the weather has turned sour and the wind is actually getting bitter instead of chilly.  
“Here.” Newt whispers, his voice getting lost in the whips of the wind. In a fluid motion, he swings his arms out of his coat and drapes the Petrol blue garment over Tina’s shoulders. It’s comically large on her, but she hugs it against her as if she has worn it every day of her life. Newt smiles for the first time all day. 

Before offering his arm and walking to the house, Newt kneels down and pats Cocoa’s bare spot of earth. He’ll place a stake in her honor during daylight and will never forget the sacrifice she made. Newt doesn’t understand why some creatures don’t get war medals.

The walk to the house is short. Tina is clenching her hands around Newt’s arm the closer they get. It just now dawns upon him that he shouldn’t have thrown her into such a situation with little warning. Before he can turn and ask her, the door flies open. Miriam Scamander has spotted them. 

Newt loves his mother, he really does! She represents the calm after a storm; the warmth during a blizzard; many nights of tears and fits brought to an end by her gentle word. Yes, she is quite incredible. Incredible as she may be, though, she bears some of the trademark qualities of a mother desperate to see her children again Theseus was always the one to take time out of his schedule and visit. Newt would often forget or opt out of a family dinner, as there would be talk of whether or not he had met anyone nice, or if he had heard from Leta. It always got awkward then, as none of them knew what had happened between Newt and Leta. 

All of this twisted Mrs. Scamander’s overjoyed expression to astonishment when she laid eyes on Tina. Under the scrutiny, Tina’s hands fall from Newt’s arm, but the wave of pride still hits Newt over the head like a bat. It’s not an emotion he’s accustomed to in situations like this. He was prideful when he obtained a particularly beat-up creature who was expected to die, but beat the odds under his care. He was prideful about his book, as he thought it was well-written and very much a part of him. Never had he had that feeling in the presence of a girl-a woman. Not even with Leta. 

“Mum, this is Tina Goldstein.” Newt fumbles, realizing he should be introducing the two women. Mrs. Scamander has recovered in her shock and is wearing her homely, pleasant smile.  
“Please, come in!” she says, opening the door wider for the two of them to fit. As Newt and Tina pass over the threshold, Mrs. Scamander gives Newt a poke in the ribs and a wink. 

Once inside, Newt’s mother takes a firm grasp of the situation. She takes Tina’s (Newt’s) coat, glancing at Newt with a cheeky glint in her eye, and offers Tina fresh tea. He really must marvel at the way she talks so easily to Tina, asking about her work and where she’s from as she bustles around the kitchen. She was horrified when she heard that neither Tina nor Newt had anything to eat for a better part of the day, and Newt was equally horrified when she intended to make them a dinner and have them _stay_. It was supposed to be a quick chat and then a departure! He casts helpless glances at his mother, who ignores them entirely. His father, David Scamander, was peacefully asleep in the bedroom. Newt remembers his father’s poor health with a pang. When Tina leaves to use the loo, all hell breaks loose. 

" _Newton Artemis Fido Scamander!_ Why didn’t you tell me you had a beau?” Mrs. Scamander exclaimed, clasping her hands around a serving spoon, glowing with pure delight. Newt feels the heat rising to his cheeks. Tina will be back any second and he’s sure he looks like an absolute fool. Wait a second... _beau?_  
“She’s not my beau!” Newt snaps, louder than he had intended to. Not yet. Maybe not ever. His eyes fall from his mother. He wants to bury himself in his arms and not wake up until the whole thing was over. It’s hard. Very hard. Much too hard.  
“Oh, Newton.” Mrs. Scamander sighs in exasperation, pulling up a seat beside her youngest son.  
“Is she worth fighting for?” Mrs. Scamander asks, correctly gaging the angst Newt is being attacked with. Those words are enough to cut him off from his worries and actually _think._ Tina was an amazing person, through and through. His last week with her had been magical-a new type of magic he never knew existed. He’d be lying if he said his feelings for her hadn’t swelled in size. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t getting antsy and extremely nervous. He had been in this place before, thinking similar thoughts about Leta. 

_Stop._ Newt grits his teeth. He has to stop comparing the two situations. Tina is _not Leta._ Newt is experiencing this magic in a much brighter burn with a clear sense of who he was. He had just been a little boy with Leta, making little boyish mistakes. For most of the past decade, he had considered he and Leta’s broken relationship to be a mistake. Now, learning about Tina and working her with her, he isn’t so sure it was a mistake after all. She inspired him. She enthralled him. He never wanted to lose that. But, how? 

“I don’t know how to fight.” Newt whispers, fearing that Tina will return at any second.  
“Just be yourself.” Mrs. Scamander’s eyes twinkle as she stands. Tina enters the room and takes a long whiff of the air. Newt’s stomach gives an involuntary grumble at the smell of whatever creamy sauce Mrs. Scamander was quickly throwing together. Tina takes the seat next to him, placing her hands on the table. Newt looks up, eyes fixed intently on her face. There’s a real war raging outside in reality, as well as inside of him. He stands in the glare of these atrocities and gets a heartache when he imagines having to face them alone. He simply couldn’t fight by himself for much longer. He had been happy to be a lone puzzle piece his entire life. Now that he had found a piece that might fit into his perfectly, he doesn’t want to be the lone wolf. 

“I think I’ll go see if Dad is awake.” Newt announces, almost immediately after taking the edge off of his hunger. Leaving an exasperated mother and a bewildered Tina, Newt pushes his way into his parent’s bedroom. His father is sitting up in bed, glasses balancing precariously on the edge of his nose as he flips through a newspaper. The room is quiet and stuffy. Much to his dismay, Newt’s thoughts chase him to his father’s room. What if he was wasting his time? After all, he was a recluse magizoologist who lived a rough and tumble lifestyle. Why would Tina Goldstein ever want to share that? 

“Something wrong, Theseus?” Mr. Scamander raises his eyes. They cross in concentration when he looks directly at Newt. Awkwardly, his son clears his throat and pulls up a seat.  
“It’s Newt, Dad.” Newt whispers. Confusion deepens the wrinkles in his Mr. Scamander’s face, obscuring any signs of youth still remaining in him. Newt’s father was old. There was no denying it. It had once been a cute story, actually. Mr. Scamander, ten years older than Mrs. Scamander, had courted her and married her within a few months. Newt can remember when he was spry; skinny and tall and able to lift up both him and Theseus on his shoulders. Newt owed many of his physical traits to his father, including the ginger hair and freckles that dotted his skin. To have these fond memories and realizations was painful for Newt. His own father wasn’t recognizing him. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t…” Mr. Scamander’s eyes fall to a small, dusty frame sitting on the bedside table. Theseus and Newt cling to his side while Mrs. Scamander clutches a picnic basket. Before either men can speak, there is a rapid tapping noise. Newt gets to his feet and parts the curtains of the bedroom window, dismayed to see the rain that dumped itself by the bucket. An owl stands at the window, flapping its wings indignantly. 

“Now, that won’t do.” Newt mutters, opening the window to allow the bird clear passage. To his surprise, it careens straight past him and into the kitchen. 

“Newt, get this bloody bird off my table!” Mrs. Scamander shouts. Newt peers into the room. The owl’s feet are planted firmly in Tina’s pasta. Unable to control his amusement, Newt chuckles and reaches forward, grasping the bird around the wings.  
“That’s enough of that.” Newt grumbles, taking it to the sink. The letter is for Tina, who cuts open the string and begins reading with wide eyes. Her body language shifts. She is no longer leaning against the table with her elbows propping herself up, nor are her shoulders relaxed. Instead, she has gone rigid and her calculating eyes scan every side of the page. She looks up, mouth shut tightly, staring at Newt to instigate a silent conversation.  
“I’m sure both Tina and I could use a breath of fresh air, Mum.” Newt attempts, but Mrs. Scamander raises an eyebrow.  
“You’ll catch your death of a cold!” she waves her hand dismissively, but Tina hasn’t blinked.  
“Best way to go, in my opinion.” Newt huffs, bypassing his mother to make long strides to the coat rack. Tina, spewing out excuses, follows suit. Without thinking, he tosses the coat around her and leads her outside. 

Mrs. Scamander was right, it was _frigid._ The rain acts like icy needles and the wind carries the precipitation sideways under the safety of the porch.  
“What’s wrong?” Newt asks, standing close to Tina so as not having to shout.  
“Barney Bones sent me this letter!” Tina replies, shoving the parchment into his hand. He flicks his wand, illuminating the paper with white light, and reads. 

_Ms. Goldstein,  
I must say, the timing of your previous letter was odd. Three days ago, Anna Marie Brown (the only Brown family member enrolled at our prestigious school) stopped showing up at her classes. She was marked as missing after a full day of searching. Her parents have not responded to any of our messages and, like you, we’re getting nervous. Please let me know if you discover anything of use. Their postal address is below._

[here, an address is given. Newt notes it as an address in one of the dumpiest sections of London] 

“Anna is missing?” Newt says, hating the quiver in his voice. Anna Marie Brown had been the bullied girl; the Hufflepuff! If Grindelwald had killed her and her entire family… was Gellert even human anymore?  
“You know her?” Tina asks, blinking away the rain that has collected on her eyelashes. Newt debates telling her the whole story. She had found him soaking in the mud of Hogwarts, but he had never revealed how he got there. It could, however, be imperative to the investigation. He breaks and tells her the whole story. 

“Is it possible he could have recruited her family?” Tina asks after Newt finishes.  
“She seemed like a very sweet girl.” Newt proffers, but he know that doesn’t mean much. Darla Fey had seemed pretty harmless, too, but Tina was still giving her the stink-eye of suspicion. Regrettably, anyone hurting or afraid of being alone was easily roped into Grindelwald’s army. Newt knew that with first-hand experience.  
“So it’s another dead end.” Tina says grimly, closing her lips to form a tight line. It was also the start to another mystery in which Newt highly doubted they could solve, due to the lack of details. 

Newt and Tina return to the table and finish their food in forced conversation. Mrs. Scamander casts curious glances at Newt, who quickly shakes his head. Involving anyone in the investigation could result in their endangerment. Were the necessary protection spells already cast over the house?  
“We should leave.” Newt says matter-of-factly as he gets to his feet. Tina makes to do the same, but Mrs. Scamander’s hands fall to her hips. _Uh oh._  
“It’s much too stormy for you to leave, Newt! Tina can sleep in the guest room-” Tina inclines her head awkwardly at this offer “-and Newt can sleep here on the sofa.” Mrs. Scamander finishes. Although the sofa is much nicer than the one Newt usually sleeps on at his flat, he can’t help but feel like he and Tina need to return to London, pronto. If there’s anything he’s learned in his thirty years of life, it’s that arguing with Miriam Scamander will be a fruitless effort. 

Tina collects a bag from Newt’s suitcase (apparently she had packed an emergency bag for nights such as this) and retreated to the bedroom. Mrs. Scamander gave Newt an extra blanket and a tender kiss on the head. The gesture was just an attempt to get close to his ear, so as to whisper some last advice.  
“Don’t be afraid, Newton. She’s a lovely girl.”  
Despite this, Newt couldn’t do anything but be totally afraid. 

_________________

Miriam Scamander made Tina sick to her stomach. In a good way, of course. After firmly shutting the bedroom door behind her, Tina collapses into her bed, rolling in the fresh sheets with her aching face buried in the pillow. The coolness of the case eased her growing headache and the frustration that everything- _everything_ -was going wrong. She would have to send a letter to get the word out about the Brown’s. In her experience, most people didn’t pay attention to “WANTED” fliers unless they were plastered with the face of a murderer. Technically, the Brown’s were only _suspects_. To top the impending doom of having to plan out a mature Auror-like letter (which, in her exhausted state, seemed impossible), Tina was still reeling from her own emotional endeavor. She had met Mrs. Scamander and felt downright terrible. Her hair was unbrushed and she was sure she could have been wearing something a bit more appropriate for the dinner. After her initial bathroom trip to entice some vomit to quell that achiness inside of her, Tina mentally slapped herself. She was a 24 year old woman and she would not let Newt, nor his mother, make her feel bad about herself. Still, she wanted to be impressive. She wanted Mrs. Scamander to like her and she wanted Newt to be comfortable. 

"Do you need another blanket, dearie?” Mrs. Scamander asks, shortly after knocking on Tina’s door. Tina raises her head from her pillow and smiles weakly. Well, Mrs. Scamander was a very nice lady.  
“No thanks, Mrs. Scamander!” Tina and Newt’s mother bid each other good night. Mrs. Scamander’s soft footsteps can be heard retreating into the bedroom. The only noise comes from the battering rain. 

The house had been a sight to behold. Sitting atop the English countryside like a crown on a head, the brown house gleamed with white trim and an air of elegance. Tina had never really asked how wealthy Newt was. Judging on his appearance of mismatched colors, she would have said not very. The house made her think otherwise. Decorative knick-knacks lined the kitchen counters and the furniture was nice. Overall, the visit itself had been pleasant. The bad news had dampened things a bit. 

Tina writes her way into the night. Letter after letter, she requests information and answers from Darla Fey; she sends an eloquent report to President Picquery; she handwrites a curt reply to Barney Bones; last but not least, she drafts a reply to Queenie. Her sister’s letter to Newt still sits on his table below, smooshed below several other envelopes. 

At the thought of Newt, Tina has had enough. Her eyes are watering and feel puffy when she rubs them. She collects her letters and silently steps out of her room, tip-toeing to the living room. A roaring fire crackles in the hearth, contending with the roaring of the wind. Sprawled out on the couch are the long limbs belonging to Newt, who has removed his shoes and waistcoat and now lays in a comfortable mess. Tina stifles a sigh. In a perfect world, she’d slink up to his side and lie with him. Tonight, that wasn’t possible. A good, long talk was in order before Tina got her hopes up. 

"Do you need something?” Newt’s voice flits across the room. Before Tina can respond, he sits up and swings his legs to the floor.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Tina apologizes, picking her way towards him. When he looks up, a tiny smile tugs at his smile. He shrugs his large shoulders and sighs.  
“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” Newt admits, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs. Tina places the stack of letters on his battered suitcase, trailing her fingers along the worn leather. What could she say? What could she do? Then, Tina sees it. 

A picture frame rests on the mantle of the fireplace, glittering with a fresh polish. A black and white photo moves slowly through the frame, detailing a gawky and freckled Newt Scamander standing close (heart achingly close) to a black-haired girl. Tina feels like vomiting again. The girl is unmistakably Leta Lestrange. Her hair falls in a beautiful braid down her shoulder while she positively beams at the camera. Newt is smiling too, believe it or not, although a hint of his awkwardness still breaks through. Ultimately, they look happy with each other. 

“Do you want to sit?” asks Newt, audibly scooting to one side of the couch. Tina faces him and nods meekly. Despite her instinct, she sits. She’d like nothing better than to return to New York and flee to her bedroom. She’d have her cry and let Queenie’s voice lull her into sleep. She’d get back to work on a case she could actually solve and forget all about Newt Scamander and the wonderful adventure that they had been sharing. There was always, in every instance, a prettier girl than Tina. Still, she sat next to Newt instead of running away. 

“You look exhausted.” Newt notes, nervously tapping his fingers along his leg. Tina swallows against the parched walls of her throat and nods.  
“I’ve been writing for the past two hours.” she motions to the letters awaiting mailing. The only owl that she knew of was resting and would likely refuse to fly in such a storm. 

She and Newt sit in uncomfortable silence for the better part of half an hour. Those thirty minutes, Tina bashes herself for every mistake. She hates herself for getting involved in a situation. Hadn’t she promised herself she’d never get involved in romance (a childish promise, she’ll admit)? Tina raises her head, prepared to depart and call it quits in her bedroom. Then, she spots Newt’s face. 

Firelight dances off his green eyes as he pulls at his knuckles. Was it just the trick of the light, or wa he tearing up?  
“Newt, what’s wrong?” Tina whispers, scooting across the couch to sit closer to him. He sucks in a shaky breath and continues pulling at his finger, turning the skin white below his force. Everything about him drooped. Upset as he might be, Tina wouldn’t press. If anything, that picture had caught her off guard and reminded her that Newt had a past. Just as Queenie had said, he was hurting. Tina wouldn’t be insensitive to that. 

“I’m afraid, Tina.” Newt’s whisper melts into the night. The log in the fire gives a particularly loud pop. This wasn’t an odd thing to say. It was normal to be afraid in times such as these, what with the attacks and disappearances and near-death experiences. Newt, after all, was still technically mending. He had been released from the hospital, but Tina was willing to bet that an emotional wound might still linger. She felt horrible after the whole ordeal.  
“Me, too.” she admits. To her dismay, Newt shakes his head. Was he really going to ignore her? Fear ripples through Tina, causing her heart to thud in her chest and for hot tears to sting her eyes. She had to go, she had to leave…  
“My parents don’t know what happened between us.” Newt’s voice is low and the opposite of confident. Tina can already tell “us” doesn’t mean Tina and Newt, but Newt and someone else. She pushes her doubts away, clearing her mind to listen intently to what he was trying to convey. Anyone could tell Newt wasn’t skilled at opening up.  
“We took that picture the day before graduation.” Newt gestures with his chin. Tina’s inspection of the picture hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was staring at it with a stony gaze.  
“She left.” 

Tina waits for more, but it doesn’t come. Newt swallows around his words and shakes his head, falling back into the cushions with force. His eyes remain determinedly shut and his fingers grab at his trousers. Tina might finally understand. “She left.” A simple explanation of what happened, but it could also be the most easy explanation to understand. She had left Newt and that clearly wounded him. Tina was no stranger to the fear of loneliness, but Newt’s case was probably different. What if he was afraid of being abandoned? It was a feasible explanation for his distance from his family. Tina gapes at Newt, letting the full force of the emotional baggage he must carry smack her over the head. 

The night might as well be full of surprises. Tina is drained. Her eyelids feel almost heavy enough to match her heart. In a half-witted attempt to comfort Newt without the use of words, she clings to his arm and lets her head rest against his shoulder. It’s a foreign experience, but a welcome one nonetheless. Her eyes drift shut. She is lulled to sleep by the smell of earth mingled with flora and fauna, as well as the welcome warmth that does not belong solely to her. 

Mrs. Scamander is the first to wake in the morning. She tiptoes into the living room before quickly backpedaling to the bedroom. Neither Newt nor Tina can see, but Mrs. Scamander is wearing a very satisfied smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Head resting on shoulder, a tender mother and a sick father, as well as some insight as to what the hell happened between Leta and Newt. More to come in England Escapades! 
> 
> Please note that England Escapades will last for as long as it must to finish up the mystery of the three missing aurors. This will not (I repeat: will not) be a 100 chapter novel. I put an s on the end of Escapades for a reason! I intend to write more after this particular story ends. Sound good? Give me feedback.


	14. The Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina witnesses the first big fight between the Scamander brothers. When talking with Mr. Deval, she makes an unpleasant discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some... ANGST! Newt and Theseus are going to argue and a bad side of Theseus is going to show itself. I don't plan on making him some constantly-angry person, so don't get used to P.Oed Theseus. Good news, though, right?
> 
> So sorry this chapter took long to get up. Enjoy.

Newt wakes to a dreary sky and a cold shoulder. His eyes snap open and he immediately swivels, dismayed at the loss of Tina’s presence. Dull, gray light streams through the windows; the remnants of the previous day’s storm. When Newt remembers how he felt and the words he had spoken, he feels thoroughly trampled. Never had he ever intended to tell Tina about Leta. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He spent every night designing a new scenario (lonely magizoologst habits) for how his life would play out. As of six months ago, a certain female face pervaded his brain. Was it January 1st that he had insisted he’d never tell Tina the details about him and Leta? If it was, that meant January 2nd was when he became determined to tell her every bit. 

“-you really do take good care of your yard, Mrs. Scamander.” Tina’s voice floats through the living room, causing Newt to raise his head from his hands. Tina’s shadow lingers at the doorway, accompanied by the slightly squat image of Mrs. Scamander. Devoid of thought, Newt hastens to his suitcase and disappears through the hatch. 

His “briefcase zoo” (called affectionately so by his mother) is a welcome sight. His creatures yawn and cry good morning. Pickett, whom Newt had managed to convince to spend the night on a soft pillow, dove onto Newt’s shoulder with surprising agility.  
“And there,” Newt gives Pickett and affectionate stroke, “you shall stay.” Newt falls into his routine. It feels wonderful to have normality course through his veins. Feed the mooncalves; exercise Marty the Marmite; give Dougal a nice, ripe apple; make sure the Niffler was still in his shiny borough. It came to the point when Newt sought Tina’s letters. A section of his briefcase dedicated to being an owlery was teeming with excited owls as he strolled in. He strung the envelopes to the beautiful messenger birds and released them from the top of the suitcase. They were, no doubt, carrying extremely important messages. 

Newt collapses into the chair at his worktable, glaring at the large pile of letters that he has yet to answer. At the moment, his thoughts were pounding in his head and everything trumped the necessity of opening letters. True to his habit of stalling to avoid confrontation, Newt leans forward and begins sorting. The package catches his eye first. He reaches forward, taking the parcel in his hands gingerly. It’s bound together by a brown string. Wedged beneath the string was an envelope on which Newt’s name is scrawled. There’s something rude about the penmanship and Newt is hesitant to open it, but ultimately he decides that he’d rather stall a bit longer before confronting Tina. Confronting her about what, you may ask? Newt has absolutely no idea. 

_Mr. Scamander,  
At your request, I sped up the printing process for your glorious new book. It would have been faster, had you simply replied to my letters instead of coming to a five minute meeting every two months. No matter! Here is the first produced copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, specially requested by yourself. See you on the tour! _

_Your publisher,  
Mr. Harley_

Newt swallows hard at the farewell. _Tour? What tour?_ Oh, right. Mr. Harley had briefly mentioned that a tour might happen in the foreseeable future. Newt bends his head and sighs woefully. The memory comes flooding back of their short meeting. Mr. Harley had already been making plans for Newt to visit several locations across England and surrounding countries. Newt wasn’t looking forward to it. He was pretty sure he had other important things on his agenda. 

Still, the magizoologist quickly rips the wrappings away from the package, revealing _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Gleaming in colors of blood red with golden lettering, Newt’s face splits into an ear-to-ear grin as his fingers trace the author’s name. Finally, his work was out there. It’s a dramatic moment that Newt attempts to play down by acting as if this wasn’t the first time he was seeing his writing between the covers of a book. 

“Newt!” Tina appears in the workshop. She smiles at him, causing him to duck his head and quickly drop the book into a drawer of his desk before she can spot it. The timing wasn’t right. He begins sorting through the letters helplessly. He first notices an envelope graced with fancy handwriting. He reaches down, but Tina is suddenly looming at his side. 

“Your mom made breakfast, you should come up and eat before we leave.” she insists, her voice strangely sparse of its usual kindness. When Newt finally looks up, Tina is avoiding his gaze. Instead of turning around, she’s standing to his side in anticipation of his movement. His eyes befall the envelope and a part of him reconciles. The pair head up to breakfast. 

Bacon, eggs, and toast. A breakfast fit for a skinny magizoologist and a coffee-loving partner. Mrs. Scamander sets down three cups of tea, brewed to perfection by the English native. Although Newt is trying to shove food into his mouth as quickly as possible, he catches Tina’s tiny, polite sips of tea. 

After their short meal, Tina retreats to gather her things from the bedroom.  
“Well, Newt, I don’t know how you did it.” Mrs. Scamander remarks, flicking her wand to send the plates flying into the soapy sink. Newt leans against the wall, hoping to sink out of sight and mind. He was still reeling from the news of his published book, as well as the previous night. Any comment from his mother was most likely unwanted.  
“You found yourself a wonderful, _normal girl_.” Mrs. Scamander continues, flashing a beaming grin at Newt. He winces at the emphasis on “normal”. He never thought of Tina as normal and felt it was an insult to her. Not only was it unintentionally disparaging of Tina, but also of the female company that he had kept himself in in previous years.  
“Best part about it? She seems to like you, too.”  
At this, Newt visibly splutters. He’s wiping tea from his chin as Tina enters the room. Mrs. Scamander is still laughing.  
“Ready to go?” Newt mutters half-heartedly, whisking away before Tina can even respond. Within seconds, his coat has slipped itself around his arms and he is clutching his briefcase. Hufflepuff scarf wrapped firmly around his neck, he and Tina stride from the house and stop just short of the large barn. 

“Question: where are we going?” asks Newt, earning him a laugh from Tina.  
“Hogsmeade.” she announces. Without further questioning, Newt tightens his hold on his brief. He and Tina are warped into nothingness. 

_________

Hogsmeade is unusually depressing. Newt feels his boots hit solid ground and he and Tina stumble into existence, blinking the bright sun out of their eyes. Contrary to his parent’s property, the sky was mostly blue with a few scars of clouds. The roofs of every shop seem to sag even more and the windows are dark and foreboding. Tina senses Newt’s hesitation and tugs at his arm, offering his a slight smile to get his feet moving. Similar to their previous trip, a Caterwauling Charm was yowling in full effect. Darla Fey wasn’t flying above them, nor was she anywhere in sight. Newt and Tina begin strolling the streets of Hogsmeade, unapproached. 

Then they finally spot a human being, it is a man who is quite out of breath and obviously caught off-guard. 

“Stop it-” he pants, “-right there.” Wand drawn, the man is really just a boy. Newt scrutinizes him carefully when he notices the boy’s eyes fixed on Tina.  
“Tina Goldstein, auror.” Tina says in her authoritative voice, reaching for the badge buried within her coat pockets. The boy holds up his hand and takes a deep breath.  
“Don’t bother, I know who you are. Hey, aren’t you the one who let all those creatures-” the boy is pointing his wand curiously at Newt, who tenses up at the gesture. Tina fishes her badge from her pocket and holds it open.  
“You really should see everyone’s badge. Don’t point your wand at him.” Tina grimaces. Newt chews on his lips nervously. Over the past eight days, he has come to know that Tina is a figure of authority in her job. She can be forceful, as well as attentive and a good listener. Unfortunately, if this particular boy was an unwanted character, she was not going to get on his good side by insulting his techniques. 

The boy straightens up after catching his breath and looks them both over before returning his wand to his pocket. Although he looks young, he is definitely older than your average Hogwarts student. He’s short, for one thing (everyone is short in comparison to Newt, aside from Theseus) and has a patchy set of whiskers protruding from random spots on his face. Black hair lies slicked over his head in the typical manner than young boys find attractive. When it comes to first impressions, Newt doesn’t like him very much.  
“I’m Gideon Grey.” says the boy, stepping forward to shake Newt and Tina’s hands with vigor. Tina puts on a polite smile while Newt raises a cautious eyebrow.  
“I’m in charge of Hogsmeade security.” Gideon pronounces with a hint of pride. Newt and Tina share a brief glance.  
“Where’s Darla Fey?” she inquires. Gideon gawks at her for a full few seconds before shaking his head and letting it hang woefully.  
“Gone. Disappeared. Just like that other guy.” says Gideon. Newt shoves his hands into his pockets and cocks his head towards Tina. He’s not very confrontational (except in extreme circumstances) and is intrigued by Tina’s facial constructions. Not to sound like a creep, of course, but he is simply a calculating mind. Animals and magical beasts are easy to read in body language, but especially in their eyes. Tina was just the same. At that time, Tina was exhibiting an unexpected emotion. It wasn’t surprise, nor was it anger, but it was a _I knew it_ furrowing of the eyebrows. 

Gideon relays the whole story, which is scarily short. Tina Fey disappeared the same day that Anna Brown did. The connection was undeniable, yet extremely odd. How could a young student and an auror be connected in any way? Tina soaks in the details with a calculating eye, whereas Newt quickly becomes fidgety. He wishes he had a field journal in his pocket to scrawl all the information. Again, Newt must admire Tina for her ability to store all the information. 

“He looks a little young to be an auror…” Newt says once Gideon finally departs from them. Tina shrugs absently, his eyes clouded. They walk in silence until they reach the other end of Hogsmeade. That is when Tina spins on her heel, hands tucked in her pockets, looking at Newt with a shining face. He gapes at her, unsure of why she’s suddenly so excited.  
“There’s only one thing to do now.” says Tina in a contagious tone. Newt feels the prickling of the hair on the back of his neck standing up. What had Tina worked out in that funny brain of hers?  
“We go see Laura Deval.”

___

Tina wasn’t very excited to be back in the hospital. She was cheered, however, by the fact that Newt was completely intact and at her side when they arrived. The morning had started out cozy and awkward. Much too cozy and awkward. Her head had been planted firmly on Newt’s shoulder when she heard Mrs. Scamander moseying behind her, going about the regular routine of whipping together a breakfast. To escape the living room as quickly as possible, Tina requested a tour of the grounds. Despite the decent size of the house, the acreage that accompanied it was mostly grasslands. 

Mrs. Scamander was certainly an interesting person. From Tina’s private assumptions, she made Mrs. Scamander out be a very caring person, but she clearly bordered on the line between curious of her son’s life (love life?) and downright nosy. Mr. Scamander? Tina hadn’t met him. She was informed briefly of his poor condition and opted away from the situation. 

“Tina!” Tina is brought back to the present by the appearance of the eldest Scamander brother, Theseus. Arm completely healed and limp completely gone, Theseus hurries up to them with his usual vigor, although his forehead is wrinkled and his beard is bushier than the last time they met. Tina turns to look at Newt, who glances at her sheepishly. His stubble is getting long enough to show. Focus.  
“Here to see Deval?” asks Theseus, clapping a hand against Newt in a rough, brotherly fashion.  
“Yes.” says Tina, eagerly pushing past Theseus.  
“There’s been no change, Tina.” Theseus warns, but she is already pushing her way into the hospital room. 

Laura Deval lays in her hospital bed, dressed in a white gown with the covers pulled up to her stomach. Pale and unthinkably skinny, her ghostly eyes settle on Tina as she enters the room. The closer Tina gets, the more Laura shrinks below the covers, gaze flitting to the floor in a silently terrified manner. Tina glances back at the door. Theseus leans in the doorway, arms crossed and brows knitted together. Newt has entered and shimmied to the corner, setting down his case as quietly as possible. 

“Laura?” Tina starts gently. At her voice, Laura disappears below the covers like a turtle within its shell. At this point, Theseus has slunk up to Tina’s side, sadness rippling across his face. Tina didn’t need to hear any professional reports to know what had happened. Laura Deval had been tortured much worse than the Cruciatus Curse in the farmhouse. 

Tina almost gives up right then. Mental wounds won’t heal for a long time. Darla was missing now, on top of Christopher Peckings and Daniel Jackknife. She was no closer to solving the case. In fact, she had taken steps back with the new development of Anna Brown and her parents dropping off the grid. She had been hired a chief investigator for this case, yet she was eight days into the journey and had only managed to make matters worse. She traded one auror for the disappearance of another. 

“Tina?” it’s no longer Theseus standing close to Tina, whispering in her ear. Newt stands beside her, blinking quickly as he scans Laura’s mound below the blanket from top to bottom. Tina wasn’t unaware of Newt’s struggles to keep up with her quick pace throughout the morning. She still felt guilty over purposely keeping him from reading Queenie’s letter, but Tina didn’t think she could take another bout of drama.  
“You won’t want to hear it, but maybe…” Newt looks at her, eyes studying her carefully.  
“...the venom.” Newt whispers. He is right, Tina doesn’t want to hear it. 

Newt’s breakthrough in New York was owed mostly to his incredible Swooping Evil’s venom, which had the properties to remove bad memories. They had Obliviated the whole dang city, but this was one person they didn’t want to lose their memoryl Tina immediately regrets thinking this particular thought. Laura was in the struggle for her life, and here Tina was acting as if she wanted her to remember every bit of it. 

“What venom?” Theseus inquires, glancing at Laura who still quivers below the blanket. Soft murmurings could be heard, driving a spike into Tina’s heart. Newt pulls his brother into the corner to explain. 

Eventually, the trio end up in the cafeteria of the hospital, arguing in the hardest, quietest tones they can muster. Theseus and Newt bicker endlessly over the decision while Tina’s head spins back and forth. It’s quite like watching tennis.  
“We need her memories, Newton.” Theseus snarls, earning him a disapproving look from the family at the next table.  
“You won’t get it if she’s traumatized!” Newt rebuttals, forming a fist on the table. Tina reaches forward and presses a hand against his arm. He immediately drops his defiant glare and stares at his wrist. _Oh boy._  
“You both have solid points.” says Tina, her voice feeling small in her throat. She hadn’t just been sitting on the sidelines like a ninny. She had arrived at her own desperate conclusion.  
“We have a better chance of getting information if we erase her bad memories.” Tina says in her strained finality voice. Theseus leans back in his chair, huffing like a boy who just got told. Newt doesn’t smirk as another younger brother might. Instead, he leans forward and keeps his eyes glued to the table.  
“Theseus…” Newt’s voice is characteristically quiet, but Theseus isn’t having it.  
“You don’t even know if the nurse will allow it, or her _” Theseus barks. Tina’s stomach folds in on itself when she remembers that Laura Deval has children How much would this potion really take away? There had to be a better way. There had to be._

When Theseus shoves back his chair and gets to his feet, Tina can tell something is wrong. The way he stoops forward towards Newt, pointer-finger at the ready, his eyes blazing, Tina is positive Theseus is about to say something he’s going to regret. 

Tina had grown to know Theseus in a work-related way. They had tea together with Newt, yes, but they mostly discussed work. She knew he was humorous at times, but also a serious bloke with an outstanding reputation. Tina was unable to surface much about his relationship with Newt. Some days, they seemed close and able to operate comfortably. Other days, Newt was always nervous and Theseus was always agitated. The motive was always understandable. Newt became nervous whenever Tina was near him (she’d tend to that later) and Theseus always became agitated when he didn’t have a plan. Newt, the most planless man of any plans, would always clash with his older brother. Today, however, it was different. It was an argument that darkened the room around the trio and caused Newt’s eyes to glisten. 

“None of your damned inventions seem to work, anyway. _Bloody hell, Newt,_ you don’t have any idea what this would do to her family, do you?” Theseus barks, taking his finger and shoving it into the table until it bends white. Tina gapes at him in unabashed astonishment while Newt shrinks in his chair, his confidence visibly shriveling. Tina’s hand has long fallen from his arm, but when she reaches for it again, he snatches his away. This earns Theseus a glare by Tina. The heat rises to her skin and her blood boils as she puts every ounce of disgust in her eyes. Theseus hastily storms away from the table, mumbling. Tina returns her attention back to Newt, who’s visibly shaking now. 

“Do-”  
“Don’t.” Newt interrupts, silencing Tina with a tiny wave of his freckled hand. Tina isn’t fond of being shushed, but the crestfallen expression that bestows Newt’s face lets her know he doesn’t mean it as an insult. Instead of speaking, he gets to his feet and strides away, shoulders sagging dejectedly. 

Tina is torn. She’s on a mission. She has to talk to Deval’s family and try to worm any information from them. Her heart, however, roars in her chest, telling her to do something about Newt. She could follow him, but she was willing to bet he needed space for the time being. The only viable option was to hunt down Theseus and give him a stern talking to. She didn’t care that he was an expert dueler and important member of Magical British government. Frankly, he was being an ass. 

________ 

Newt inadvertently stumbles across Theseus on his way out. Anger burns hot in his chest, but his fingers become cold with depression. Theseus was always the bigger one, the more popular one. Most of all, though, he was Newt’s older brother. Playful, brotherly bickering turned into expert insulting sessions that Newt hadn’t missed. While Theseus goes about the country, attending cocktails and balls and having his choice of women, he chortles and shrugs when it comes to Newt Scamander.  
“Haven’t the faintest why he turned out this way, to be honest.” Newt can hear his brother saying those exact words at some fancy Ministry party. When Theseus stood and made himself as big as possible (quite like an angry Nundu, Newt later thought), his little brother had known something nasty was about to occur. Walking through the busy hospital hallways, Newt is desperate for escape. He wanted to return to his old, simple life. With Tina. No, without Tina. He had left her in the cafeteria. 

Newt exits the hospital, shoes schlopping against the wet concrete as he steps out into the unassuming, Muggle world. Much to his dismay, Theseus is leaning close to a smaller, brown-haired man. Their heads are bent together and Theseus stands in his regular posture of arms crossed and feet apart, occasionally breaking apart his arms to do a hand signal or two. Newt grows increasingly frustrated when Theseus spots him. 

“Newt, come here.” Theseus says in a cold voice, eyes blazing and chin out. Newt hesitates before plodding towards his brother, head inclined despite Newt’s best efforts. He wasn’t _that_ little kid anymore.  
“This is Harry Deval, he’s Laura’s husband.” says Theseus, motioning to the short man. Newt shakes hands with him before they both look expectantly to Theseus, who is obviously about to lead into something.  
“My brother claims to think he has a solution for La-you’re wife’s issues.” Theseus says crisply. Newt glares at him, hating every bit of Theseus more than he ever has. Mr. Deval looks to Newt keenly, who bites back a defensive snarl. He wants to leave.  
“No, Theseus. Not yet.” Newt mutters, glaring at Theseus pointedly before glancing at Mr. Deval. Tension sizzles between the trio. Mr. Deval is distancing himself from the two brothers who feel like sticks of dynamite begging to be lit. 

_“ _Tell him_.” _

So, Newt does. It comes out in a gurgled mess of incorrect adjectives, but by the end he has gotten his point across. The venom of the Swooping Evil was a viable option, but not the best. Newt understands this. He knows that any bad memory (or possibly more) could be erased, resulting in chunks of Laura Deval’s life disappearing. Yet, somehow, Theseus took this suggestion as an insult. Staring down Newt like a bull in a pen, Theseus continues a long conversation with Mr. Deval in which Newt slips away. He retreats to his flat by means of Disapparation, not caring when a group of Muggles see him magically appear, nor hesitating before crossing the busy road in which traffic honks at him angrily. 

He collapses onto the nearest piece of furniture and slings his coat across the room (after setting his case down with great care). He thought he had been doing well. He and Tina were getting comfortable and they were happy, despite the horrible circumstances. He had given Theseus too much legroom. It was Newt’s own fault Theseus burst. It was Newt’s own fault, he sincerely believed, that Tina would probably never return to his flat. Newt wants to see her desperately, but he can’t muster up the courage. Not after what happened last time. 

___________

Tina happens across Mr. Deval on her periodic visit to Laura’s room. After her search for Theseus turned up nothing, she returned to the room to stew in the dim lighting. To her dismay, someone was already there, apparently doing the same thing. 

Mr. Deval, short and slightly round-bellied, sits on the sofa with his feet braced and his hands clasped between them. His entire posture speaks volumes to the struggle Tina is sure he’s battling. Laura has not surfaced from her hiding place. 

“Who are you?” Mr. Deval inquires, his voice void of emotion. Tina jumps at it before straightening up, speaking in an unnecessary whisper.  
“Tina Goldstein. I’m an auror.” To this, Mr. Deval looks up at her and bites the inside of his mouth, nodding slightly.  
“You brought Laura home.” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. Both of them look to Laura, who couldn’t be less at home. Tina hates the way Mr. Deval phrases it, as if she was the only one to bring Laura home. In fact, it was probably owed most to Newt and the accompanying aurors. 

_Newt_. Tina sighs, wondering where her partner (she had grown fond of using that term) had disappeared to. 

“Never expected to have to sort this out.” Mr. Deval laughs. It’s a watery laugh. Tina knows that type of laughter. It bubbles over in the most humorless of times when you don’t want people to see you cry. She could vividly remember standing on the docks, staring into a pair of swirling green eyes that often refused to meet hers. When they finally did meet, she was reminded of their adventure; of the beasts, the near-death experiences, and the running while holding hands.  
“Sort what out?” Tina asks, albeit distant. She was submerged in a memory and she was desperately trying to claw her way out of it.  
“Your beau. The fellow I saw you with earlier. Newt Scamander.” Mr. Deval replies choppily, dropping his eyes to his hands and tapping his feet. Tina misses the tell-tale signs of the onslaught of a nervous breakdown. Instead, she’s merely gaping at Mr. Deval like a trout out of water. One minute she’s at the harbor, next she’s in the hospital, and lastly she’s swirling through a future that may never happen. A fantasy.  
“H-He’s not my beau.” Tina feels traitorous saying it. It makes her stomach turn and her soul goes wretched, but she says it anyway. Until this whole Grindelwald thing is over, there should be no misconceptions. Meanwhile, Mr. Deval is leering at her with a smile that’s not quite right. It’s not the kind of smile Queenie would wear before saying “Oh, sure you don’t like him, Teenie”, but a sour smile that is the precursor to an unpleasant memory mixed with humor.  
“Theseus looked at my wife the same way.” Mr. Deval’s voice dissolves into the room. He might as well just announced it. He might as well just have snarled with the amount of disdain he forced into his tone. Before Tina can even react, he has gotten to his feet and disappeared from the room, failing to give his pathetic wife a second glance. Tina sinks into the nearest chair, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Disappearances, possible deaths, torture and now Theseus? The plot was thickening. It was expanding and warping in places Tina didn’t want to go. Wasn’t it Tina’s duty as an investigator to go down those dark roads? Similar to almost every situation in London, Tina finds herself seeking answers in the dingy flat of Newt Scamander. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darla Fey is gone. 
> 
> Gideon Grey?
> 
> Was Theseus motivated by love? We'll have to see
> 
> EDIT: There was a tag error and the whole thing was in italics. Sorry about that, it's fixed now (I think)


	15. Into the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt falls into a series of nightmares that rock him to the core and Tina finds him passed out on the kitchen floor. The two reconnect briefly before heading out on their next mission. 
> 
> And, oh yea, Newt finds Queenie's letter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoo, so sorry this so much time to get up. Things have been hectic and this particular chapter was a bit hard to write. A few plot points in here, but nothing extremely spectacular. Enjoy Newt and Tina trying to figure out what they want.

Newt didn’t realize, but he was hammering a nail into a plank of wood for no specific reason. He kept trying to convince himself that it’d come in handy, but he really just needed to swing a hammer at that particular moment. He was being suffocated by the emptiness of his flat and hated that Tina didn’t linger around the nearest corner. Pickett clung to his collar for dear life as sweat pooled through his shirt. Soon, the plank was dotted with messy rows of shiny nails. 

Newt was angry. 

Newt didn’t get angry very often. He was a physical person at best. He associated anger with loud arguments and rude words, and he wasn’t prone to that. His type of anger smoldered within his chest and, despite his best efforts, he could never escape from it. When Newt thought a break was due, he collapsed forcefully into a chair and planted his head in his folded arms. Tina was probably off doing something productive to save the world while he labored over nothing in particular. Theseus was probably stewing in his office, wishing he had a different younger brother. At the present moment, Newt couldn’t agree more. 

Newt raises his head, bitter thoughts ebbing to make way for exhaustion. He unhelpfully remembers the finished book in the nearest drawer of his desk, as well as the growing mound of mentally tasking chores he had to do. The beast chores were much easier to handle and very interesting in comparison to answering letters. However, he was all out of beast chores and nails. The time had come. 

Newt powers through six letters from various senders. Two come from hobbyists who claim to be magizoologists. From the way they write and word their statements, Newt can tell this is their hobby at best. Nonetheless, he answers their questions dutifully and seals up his responses to be sent. After these six letters, his feathers are thoroughly ruffled. His choking bowtie was flung to the floor, closely followed by his waistcoat. His hand took chunks of his hair absentmindedly as he worked through the mountain of work, bit by bit, until reaching the middle. Immediately, Newt could tell the next envelope he picked up was different. 

The paper felt softer against his fingers and the writing of his name on the front was graceful and delicate. Without reading who it was from, Newt could already tell. This was the writing of a woman. Newt didn’t know very many women, and the ones he did know certainly didn’t have penmanship like that. It could only be from Queenie Goldstein. 

_Dear Mr. Scamander,  
That sounds just terrible! I think I’ll call you Newt for now._ [Newt smiles at this] _Tina told me quite a bit about her adventure (so far) with you and I’m just too happy for the two of you. You really do seem like a perfect match._

 _Stop turning red, Newt, there’s nothing embarrassing about it._ [Newt nearly crumples in despair. Could she read his thoughts in advance, too?] _Although I know you’ll get along well, you should know a few things about Tina. Why am I telling you? Well honey, I feel like you two should have a better shot at love than others. Yes,_ love _. You both deserve it after having your hearts broken._ [To this, Newt frowns. Queenie had referred to their hearts being broken as a plural] _If I gave away everything too quickly, there’d be no fun in getting to know each other, right?_

_Newt, don’t get discouraged. Tina sometimes acts distant or a bit stony. She’s built up her defenses and her walls and it will take a very special someone to break them down. Tina has become a different person based on her experiences. On this point, I’m sure you can relate. While Tina may come across as brusque, she’s very passionate (especially about her job. I’m sure you’ve noticed) and will cling to your side through the darkest of times, should you befriend her.  
Just keep that in mind and be yourself. _

_P.S: You should hear how much she thinks about you. And she wants kids. She definitely wants kids._

Try as he might, Newt can’t peel his eyes away from the letter, specifically the amount of times Queenie uses the word “love”. The postscript is so spectacularly blush-inducing that Newt thoroughly ignores it, storing in the back of his brain for later use. He also can’t wrap his head around how spot-on Queenie was with her synopsis of Tina. Bitterly, he believes that Theseus would absolutely butcher something like that. Still, the advice was priceless and invaluable to Newt. Maybe, with this kind of help, he wouldn’t be so hopeless with Tina after all. 

Newt stashes the envelope with reverence. He locks the drawer and hides the key in his favorite hiding spot. He shoves his hands in his pockets, the words engraved on his brain. He rocks back and forth on his feet, biting the inside of his mouth indecisively. Sure, he had just unlocked the key to happiness, but he had also just pushed Tina away. 

Newt ends up in his bed, surrounded by the suffocating darkness of his empty flat. He doesn’t lay in bed as one might, but has his legs crossed and his back supported by the headboard, staring off at the wall with glassy eyes. The occasional breeze through his window, cracked open slightly, stirs the foreign smells of Newt’s bedroom. He hadn’t slept in his own bed for eight days… _Well, no, that sounds wrong…_ Those eight days clung to the bed in a mix of perfume, paper and pencil lead. He could almost hear the vicious scratching of Tina’s pencil. 

Newt falls asleep. He doesn’t know when, nor does he know why. He was feeling exceptionally awake, mulling over the day’s events in his mind and wondering how on earth he could make so many monumental mistakes in only twenty-four hours. Apparently, his body deemed this time perfect to launch him into a terrifying blackness. The blackness became interrupted with screams of torture and torrents of neon green light. He was falling helplessly through the nightmares that had haunted him since the night in the ranch house, as well as a mixture of those terrible memories that ceased to leave him alone. 

_______________

Sometime during the night, when black still reigns over the room, Newt is awoken. Pickett is squeaking loudly in his ear, jabbing him on his cheek with his razor hands. Newt instinctively reaches to the small creature and pulls him away in an apologetic manner. Newt feels disgusting. His skin is damp from sweat and his legs shake. He notices that he is on the floor.

His rest wasn’t restful by any means. His body visibly shakes as he struggles to his feet, staring in dismay at the sight that his boots have been flung to the other side of the room. He undoes the higher buttons of his shirt that choke and itch his neck. After taking a deep breath, he collapses back onto his bed.

Five continents. He has traveled to five different continents and slept in the most precarious of positions. He once slept suspended on an overhang with an 100 foot drop below him. He had been under constant threat more times than he could count, yet he had always managed to sleep peacefully (when he convinced himself he needed rest). Yet, whenever he rested in a legitimate bed with an actual pillow below his head, everything spiraled out of control. He was regretful of his decision to purchase a bed. 

Newt gets to his feet and pads softly from his bedroom to the kitchen. Although dark, he knows the proximity of the nearest walls and countertops to navigate his way successfully through the dark. The sky has clouded, bringing with it the dull drumming of rain upon the street. Drunken pub-goers stumble to and fro down the street as Newt leans over the sink, running his hands below the cooling water for much longer than usual. Pickett’s steady breathing on his shoulder lulls him into drowsiness. He fights it by splashing his face with the icy water, but it only quickens his desire to fall back into back. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll have no bad thoughts. Just a peaceful sleep full of familiar faces… well, _a_ familiar face.

He falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

_______________

When Tina finds Newt on the kitchen floor, limbs sprouting out in each direction, she was actually thinking of taking a photo. Not because she thought it was comical, nor because she wanted to always remember Newt with his shirt untucked from his trousers (and his chest peeking out from below his collar, but _that_ was besides the point), but because she wanted to show Theseus. Maybe he wouldn’t shout at his little brother so viciously if he knew how exhausted he made himself working all day. 

Tina had spent her night in exile. Sadly enough, she didn’t have the confidence to go to a pub and drink. She was well aware that she’d get hit on, especially because of the late hour and the dwindling amount of common sense left in the drunkards. Truth be told, she found a tiny park with a lopsided bench and rested there. When the rain began, she heaved herself to her feet and worked up the courage to Disapparate to Newt’s apartment. There were some things that needed discussing. 

Mr. Deval had been extremely clear on the alleged stance that Theseus took with Laura Deval, a _married woman_. There were so many questions swirling through Tina’s mind that made her cringe at the thought of voicing them. Then again, what could she really say? Mr. Deval had based Theseus and his wife off of her and Newt. For the sake of technicality, Tina and Newt were simply friends-if that. Newt hadn’t talked to her since departing the hospital. If Tina were to investigate this further, it’d take precious time away from the real case and cause her to delve into the specifics of a relationship that was still unsteady. 

Overall, Tina had a terrible night. The clouds were turning a pale gray when she pushed her way through Newt’s door, fully expecting his case to be within sight. Instead, a head of mismanaged ginger hair caught her sight first. To her horror, Newt Scamander was screaming. 

Prior to coming upon this, Tina wouldn’t have known what Newt would sound like when he was screaming. She had heard him shout before, particularly when they were being dragged away after his case was taken from him by Graves, (a.k.a Grindelwald). Screaming was on a whole new level. A hoarse, raspy, terrified voice that sparked to life when Tina entered the room and fizzled when she fell beside Newt, not hesitating to press a hand against his face.

“Newt?” she says loudly, gripping his chin and shaking it vigorously. Pickett is assisting her against his neck, poking and prodding until the red marks blend into Newt’s freckles. Rough stubble scuffs against her fingers as she blots out the sickening screech that echoes throughout the apartment. Blood roars in her ears in an attempt to block out the terrible sound while she pulls back her hand, swallowing hard. Pickett glances back at her and gives a tiny nod that Tina blessedly understands. The bowtruckle dives out of the way as her hand flies through the air, slapping Newt squarely on the cheek. 

Newt sits up so quickly that he lurches forward onto Tina, mumbling incoherently. Tina’s arms fall limp at her side. She was pushing herself away. She wanted to board her mental sailboat and go to that nice beach she envisioned whenever Queenie was trying to read her thoughts. While Tina convinced herself she was cruising across the blue Pacific, she was actually making a mental note of every single detail. The dishes were still piles in the sink; Newt smelled like every ingredient on earth combined; the kitchen table had been pushed to the right ever-so slightly; Newt’s hair tickled Tina’s chin; the floor was in need of a decent wash, as muddy boot prints were visible. All in all, it took several heartbeats before Tina grabbed Newt by the shoulders and pushed him away at arm’s length while she balanced on her knees.

“Newt?” she snaps, causing Newt’s eyes to fly open. When his eyes meet her’s, Tina can tell he’s not quite all there. His fingernails scrape the tiles and his hands ball into fists before a visible shudder spreads across him. At last, he finally blinks.  
“Tina?” he gazes at her in bewilderment.  
“Are you okay? Tina gasps, resisting the urge to hug him after replaying that dreadful scream in her head. In a typical Newt fashion, he tilts his head, scans her face and says, “I’m fine.” Tina is ready to knock him out right then and there. 

_______________

Despite Tina’s best efforts, Newt refuses to admit anything is wrong. He does this by quickly launching himself into work, attempting to disappear to button up his shirt and get a fresh vest on. Tina tries to shrug it off. She can’t help but feel worried. She has been so nervous about so many things that were spiraling out of control, it would be nice to worry about something she could actually take care of. Newt, however, was proving to be the challenge. 

“I talked to Mr. Deval before I left the hospital.” Tina announces, coming upon Newt in one of his grassy biomes. A number of tiny creatures go skittering through the grass. He stands and smiles at them fondly before apparently registering what Tina had said. He drops his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders slouching and mouth resolutely shut. 

Tina decided right then and there that she could only afford one session of trying to tempt Newt into conversation. She was going to the Brown’s apartment to search for clues, whether or not Newt tagged along. she was still going insane wondering if Newt should be told about the possible dynamic between Theseus and Laura. It was, after all, an important thing for a brother to know. Still, she wasn’t sure…  
“Do you and Theseus always fight like that?” asks Tina, her voice oddly devoid of emotion. She really was just tiptoeing around the finale. Newt seemed to notice, earning her a hurt glance. _Damn it_. Newt doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts walking towards his work desk, failing miserably to seem nonchalant. He refuses to look Tina’s way, causing a lump to form in her throat. This was the man who had jumped in front of her during an explosion. Was she really so terrible that she was tearing him apart with her words? How could she tell Newt that Theseus might have had a motive? She would never defend Theseus for trying to break down his younger brother. 

Tina feels too ill-equipped for this mission that she has set out on. Devastating as it may be, she lets it slip away. She begins to gather her things from the table in a hurry. Her fingers collect the papers and notes of her own making while her mind whirls in an unpredictable direction. Was this how it ended?

“What are doing?” Newt asks, turning to Tina with a smoldering stare. His face has flushed red, a tell-tale sign of anger.  
“I have to go look for clues.” Tina tells him, sidling past him to reach a stray paper that managed to reach his side of the workspace. Too encased in his own thoughts, Newt didn’t move out of the way.  
“Where?” he asks, raising his eyebrows ever-so-slightly. When Tina tells him, she can see his face slacken from its former look of anger, twisting into worry. His eyes flit to the desk, then back to her. 

“Do you need a partner?”

_______________

Newt and Tina Apparate as close to the Brown’s apartment as they can get before walking. Neither of them knew the neighborhood very well and, therefore, would be at risk of getting splinched if they attempted to envision it. Rain still splattered against the roadways, earning them a Muggle umbrella. Just the one. 

Newt holds the umbrella as close to his head as possible to allow Tina to stay dry. He feels exhausted and knows he must look like hell, but Tina might have him beat. It was apparent she ran a brush through her hair and tried to fix herself up, but there was no hiding the unsteady steps and bags below her eyes (the steps could be somewhat attributed to Newt’s uneven stride that threw off the most graceful of women--not that he walked close to many women. Or any. At all) Newt was still thoroughly ruffled from waking up on the kitchen floor, Tina kneeling over him with her hands planted on his shoulders. Unlike his mother (or, God forbid, Leta), Tina did not pester him with questions. She had retrieved a glass of water for him, as well as a wet cloth to put over his head. He had denied the cloth, but his parched throat couldn’t deny the water. From the hoarse decibel of his voice, he feared he wasn’t being completely silent during his nightmares.

The nightmares were odd. They didn’t play a story as one might expect. It wasn’t Newt struggling to walk through a dreamlike state of all the things that terrified him. It was just flashes here and there, showing him just enough to make him revisit his worst moments. When he woke up and met Tina’s eyes, he wasn’t scared. How could he be scared with her there? Still, like any awkward magizoologist recluse, he avoided her for the rest of the early morning. 

Newt hadn’t forgotten about Queenie’s letter. All while denying blatant offers from Tina to help him, Newt cringed. Queenie had mentioned getting past defensive barriers, and he was almost positive this wasn’t the way to do it. Still, here they were, walking closely through downtown London. 

“People don’t look at me weirdly here.” Tina comments, breaking the silence of their walk shortly after passing a factory worker on his way for an early shift.  
“They look at you weirdly in New York?” Newt asks, a bit confused. Tina doesn’t answer. Newt can’t blame her. When they turn the corner, they seem to have entered a truly horrifying section of London. 

Acrid odors linger on the air and tall, disheveled apartment buildings loom on either side, blocking out any light from the clouds. A rat scurries across the street, tail dragging in the slime-like film of rain on the roads. Newt and Tina stand a little closer together, trying not to take deep breaths.  
“Where is the apartment?” asks Newt. Tina shuts her eyes and draws an imaginary map with her finger.  
“Two blocks, straight ahead.” she says. They don’t hesitate before plodding onwards. 

The neighborhood is filthy. Caked in a literal layer of grime, Newt feels his shoulder brush against the corner of a building and immediately stifles a gag. Still, they manage the two blocks and come upon a brick building, dark in every window and foreboding at the front. Attributing to the eerie front was a man slouched in the doorway, hat pushed over the front of his head to shadow his eyes. The brightest thing Newt had seen since their entry into this place is the glowing ember at the butt of the man’s cigarette. They have to pass him to get into the building. Newt’s hand comes to rest on Tina’s back as they approach the door. 

“Who are you?” the man asks, his voice gruff and harsh. Tina and Newt stop dead in their tracks. Newt’s hand falls from Tina’s back, readying himself for a wand fight. In reality, they had no reason to be nervous of this muggle. They had wands to protect themselves and could, no doubt, wield them successfully. The question looming on the horizon was making them nervous. Was this guy a muggle? Sometimes you can sense something about them, but all Newt was sensing was a distinct smell of alcohol.  
“We’re here to see the landlord.” says Tina without missing a beat. Newt nods, praying that he won’t be the screw up in the operation. Usually, if it didn’t have to do with magical creatures, he was hopeless.  
“‘At’s me.” says the man, who was apparently the landlord. After speaking this, the landlord raises his head and pushes his hat farther back on his head, blowing a steady jet of smoke from his nostrils. He was freakishly pale and his skin sagged in all the wrong places, whereas his eyes were still shadowed. They were sunk too deep in his sockets to ever emerge. Newt was unprepared for this. You never expect a landlord to be the guy you’re most suspicious of, but that quickly became a reality for Newt. He won’t be able to hold himself together for much longer. 

“We’d like to look at an apartment.” says Tina, her voice thick with politeness that makes Newt wince. He shifts weight in his feet, blowing through his nose in mild terror. He glances over the top of Tina’s head and grits his teeth. He’s in search of an escape. There had to be a better way than going undercover, especially with this landlord who was clearly not buying it. 

That’s when Newt sees it. His eyes lock on the nearest street corner. Peering from the dim shadow of another building, three young boys watch Newt with acute interest. They’re dressed in the normal outfit of beggar boys (Newt always felt terrible when he was unable to give money to the poor on the street. He rarely carried muggle money and Galleons weren’t worth much to the muggle community), but they don’t have the usual pity-seeking demeanor. Instead, they’re hunched slightly, jaws working like cows chewing cud. The pull was there.

“You American?” asks the landlord, straightening up to stare at Tina with the gaping holes that Newt assumed held his eyes. Tina straightens up as well, matching the man’s height with her personality (she was actually much shorter than many would guess). While the two had a stand-off, Newt was desperately trying to get Tina’s attention. Actually, he wasn’t doing anything except pleading with an unknown God to get them out of the mess that was sure to come. Every time Newt glanced at one of the boys up the street, he was hit with the same feeling that he always got whenever returning to Hogwarts. They were wizards, no doubt about it, but why weren’t they in school? Meanwhile, Tina had silenced the landlord about her American accent and was claiming to be interested in some vacant apartments.

“You two married?” asks the man, sucking his cigarette down to the bare nub. His posture is that of a calculator, not of a landlord seeking out new tenants. Newt’s wand feels hot against his wrist, concealed in the inner sleeves of his arm. The man’s question doesn’t even hit Newt until he feels Tina’s hand wrap around the crook of his arm. He stares at it with a wide-eyed expression before he recalls the words. Tina is the one to answer.

“Yes, we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, a LOT of time jumps. Bear with me! I'll try to have the next chapter up sooner. Any guesses as to what will happen? Please leave me feedback!
> 
> I know I don't have many chapters up for this, but if anyone is ever interested in illustrating a scene (I'm not artist), just let me know! 
> 
> datrowanclaw@gmail.com
> 
> or PM me on Tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fluorescentmythicalbeastie


	16. Lost in a Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina continue their (suddenly) undercover operation to discover that the Brown's apartment has been destroyed. Unfortunately, they can't leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have this issue with my writing getting dry after awhile and I finally figured out why. I always limit myself to keeping the characters the same. I mean, in 15 chapters Newt and Tina have developed a little bit, but not very much. So this is my promise: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS ON THE WAY! 
> 
> Things to look forward to:
> 
> A kiss
> 
> A hug
> 
> Some secrets revealed

Tina is flabbergasted. She’s also woozy, unsteady on her feet and desperately wishing she could sit down. A mother might think Tina was pregnant (Tina was certain that she was not), but something else was ailing her. She had just claimed to be Newt Scamander’s _wife_. If that wasn’t enough to warrant her a 15-minute break, she didn’t know what was. 

In all fairness, it was for the sake of going undercover. She hadn’t intended to go undercover, but she hadn’t planned to be entirely truthful, either. Her name was Mary Bosnia and she was 28 years of age. She had just lost her job and was looking for a small place with cheap rent. Newt? Well, Tina doubted he had even considered the fact that he might not be Newt Scamander. As soon as the words left Tina’s mouth, Newt’s face was one of astonishment concealed by a blank expression in his eyes. He showed no sign of life until a clammy hand set itself on top of Tina’s and he raised his head to look at the creepy landlord. Tina knew she had to jump on top of the situation or risk exposure. Albeit strange and smelly, the landlord gave no indication that he was of magical blood. 

“I’m Mary Bosnia.” Tina says rather loudly. “This is-” Tina inclines her head to Newt, expecting to do all the talking. To her surprise, Newt jumps into the situation with a stammer.  
“Herbert. H-Herbert Bobnia.” Newt announces, extending a hand to shake with the landlord. Tina winces at his mispronunciation of his own last name, but doesn’t feel anger. She had dragged Newt into this situation and expected him to be proficient. He wasn’t comfortable in his own skin, so why should another’s work? Tina wasn’t willing to acknowledge that she had technically claimed to be Herbert Bosnia’s wife, as oppose to Newt Scamander. Her hands start itching to write about this occurrence to Queenie.

The landlord introduces himself as Will with no formal last name. When he steps into the apartment building to show them his vacant living quarters (Tina has a feeling all of them will be vacant), Tina and Newt follow in stumbles. Tina had never really walked with Newt before in such a way with her hand clasped over his arm and his hand resting on hers. They more they moved through the building, however, the smoother their combined stride becomes. This was, of course, after Newt tripped over Tina’s feet several times. 

“This apartment here is the biggest we got…” Will, the landlord, says, knocking loudly on the entrance of an apartment before laying a hand on the rusty knob. The hallway is long and dark and the carpet is stained to nearly black. Everything is dull and gray, save Newt’s bright coat and Tina’s gentle blue hat. The number and letter on the door (faded as they may be) are not the ones Tina wants to see. She glances back and immediately straightens up.  
“Will? What about that one?” Tina asks, nodding to the door they had just passed. Of course, the only room they’d actually want to see would be the one the landlord decided to skip.   
“Unavailable.” Will grunts, raising his head to look straight at Tina. The dim gas lamp hanging on the wall glints off of an eyeball, giving Newt and Tina the first indication that his eyes actually existed. It’s here that Tina knows they’ll have to leave their unsuspecting landlord behind. 

Wordless magic is difficult to achieve and can make the bravest of aurors nervous, but Tina is comforted by all those nights she spent alone in her apartment, practicing on household items. More recently, she had spent her nights answering letters from a specific magizoologist, but that was besides the point. Will the landlord was in need of a little lie-down. Tina squeezes Newt’s arm, catching his attention. He glances down at her, eyes still wide from when she first latched onto him. She reaches into her pocket and, in one fluid motion, points her wand at Will and concentrates on letting a Stunning Charm fly. A torrent of wispy silver hits the older man squarely in the chest, rendering him unconscious against the wall, sliding into the floor. Tina cringes.

“A bit harsh, maybe.” she says, releasing Newt and rushing over to the man to ensure that he was okay. Likewise, Newt tails her to the end of the hallway where Will had been forced and peers out of the window with fearful eyes.   
“Pssst, Tina.” Newt whispers, jerking his head in a motion for her to come. She slinks up beside him and follows his eyes, spotting a group of boys lingering on the street corner. Young, dirty and bearing the look of young rascals (Tina had seen many of them during her early years of patrolling the streets of New York as a low-level investigator), the boys are attempting to appear inconspicuous. One of them, however, is always watching the window out of the corner of their eye. Tina’s nerves spike. The wood of her wand grows sweaty against her hand. Newt puts a hand on her shoulder and pulls her away from sight of the boys and into the shadowy corner of the hallway. For a moment, the only sound is the combination of their rapid breathing.

What did this mean? It could mean nothing. The boys could simply be lurkers looking for a bag to steal or a heart to win, but Tina couldn’t get their faces out of her head. They were studying. If they were informants, possibly paid off by a Grindelwald supporter. Tina had always known that the missing Aurors had to be related to Grindelwald, but this was making it become a heavy reality. Investigation as to who could have been the “Man in Black” at the farmhouse hadn’t amounted to anything. Now, Newt and Tina were outnumbered, even if the boys were simply boys. 

“We need to get Will somewhere.” Tina whispers, unsure of whether or not the building has other residents within earshot. Newt immediately dives away from Tina, speeding down the hallway and swinging around the banister of the stairwell with his coat flying behind him. He returns in seconds (impossible to achieve by anyone but Newt Scamander, Tina muses) with an old, smelly bottle in hand. Tina is immediately consumed by conclusions. So, that was the kind of guy Newt was, huh? He thought this was the perfect time to sit down and take a sip or two of whatever was stinking in that bottle. Tina hadn’t even spotted a bottle on their way in, so where exactly had Newt grabbed it from?

“We put this in his hand and he’ll think he passed out because he was drunk.” Newt whispers, handling the bottle gingerly as he bends down to Will and stages the two variables perfectly. Relief floods through Tina from head to toe, but Newt doesn’t notice. 

Newt is placed on lookout. He stands by the door, wand drawn, and Tina tentatively studies the outside of the Brown’s apartment door. The door, like everything else, is a dark wood, stained and scratched with a simple lock and handle design. 

“ _Lumos_.” White light erupts from Tina’s wand tip and she bends to the ground, inspecting the hardwood floor by the door closely. Faint outlines of a shoe can be spotted. When Tina breathes too hard, they disappear into miniscule piles of ash.   
“Newt…” Tina breaths, straightening up to look into his eyes. Newt’s eyes weren’t a very comforting place to look, as they were always the window to whatever he was feeling. However, Tina found herself staring back into a look that she never expected. It frightened her to the point of breaking the eye contact and laying a careless hand on the handle. She had seen tenderness.  
“Tina, NO!” Newt wraps a firm arm around Tina and attempts to pull her back, but the door is already swinging open on its hinges. While the door is innocent and reveals no nasty defense devices, the room itself is gone. 

“Bloody hell…” Newt whispers, but his voice is met with a formidable wall of smoky air and floating ash. While the floor appears to be intact, the entire apartment is scorched. Burnt up pieces of what appears to be furniture lays in mounds on the ground, whereas the walls are scorched to complete blackness. The window is gone, allowing the breezy air to swirl through the room. Someone had gone to great lengths to cover up their tracks. 

Tina inspects the room from the doorway, keeping the tip of her wand sufficiently illuminated. She concedes that it’d be foolhardy to enter the room in case of possible structural issues, but something is nagging at her. The front of the living room is begging for her attention. She sees the background of the dirty city from the open window and squints. They were on the second floor, easily visible to the streets below. Yet Tina, in her quick inspection of the front of the building, hadn’t noticed a broken window. Concealing charms were easy, but who would have placed them? Tina had done a pat-down search of Willy and found no wand, nor any other sign that he was of wizard heritage. 

Either way, Tina was getting antsy. Any evidence had been blasted to smithereens and they were wasting precious time cooped up in a bad part of town. They were utterly helpless at the hands of whoever was keeping a careful eye on the apartment building.   
“Newt, we should leave.” Tina says, spinning to face Newt with her wand held to her face. Unsurprisingly, Newt starts at her sudden movement. His eyes don’t leave the staircase when he grabs Tina by the arms and closes his eyes, face crinkling with concentration.

Nothing happens. 

Usually, they’d already be at another destination. Now, Newt has the look of person with a bad stomach ache. Tina never realized how silly they look milliseconds before being warped through space and time itself.   
“It won’t work.” Newt gasps, color draining from his face. Apparently, he had been holding his breath. Tina is next to try, but she quickly feels a heavy weight upon her shoulders, preventing her from concentrating. They were locked in.   
“Well, there’s no questioning it now.” Tina hisses, hand latching onto Newt’s wrist and leading him up the next series of stairs.   
“Why are we going up?” he whispers, although it’s really unnecessary to whisper as their feet are pounding up the rickety, creaky steps.   
“To see if we can escape from the roof.” Tina replies, surprised when he leaps in front of her and takes charge to the last short amount of stairs. 

“ _Alohomora_.” the door swings open and Newt waits for Tina to arrive at his side. Wands draw, sides pressing against each other and Pickett’s head appearing from Newt’s breast pocket, they take painfully slow steps onto the roof. They’re in panic mode. Tina’s entire life is yapping at her like a small dog, trying to get her attention to remind her of all her fondest memories. She was unable to linger on the past in a tumultuous situation such as this. Coming into daylight, Newt’s face is in sharper focus, but he keeps his mouth a taut line. 

“ _Homenum Revelio_.” the charm disappears with a fizzle. Tina leans back from the doorway, sucks in a breath, and nods to Newt. They step onto the roof in unison, making a quick job of checking the perimeter for enemies. They breath a collective sigh of relief when they find that they’re alone. 

The omnipresent fear of being captured is heightened when a figure rises from the horizon. Buildings surround the apartment complex on either side. From a higher roof, the outline of a boy (no, a short man) appears. Facial features shadowed, save a very recognizable hairdo, the man puts his hands on his hips and bellows, “My, my, what do we have here?”. Tina is prepared to fight. 

______________

Newt doesn’t like Herbert Bosnia, nor his choice of flats, but his wife is pretty wonderful. To battle the wonderful undercover operation, the apartment had been thoroughly destroyed and now they were attempting to figure out who had ambushed them from the adjacent building. Tina’s charm hadn’t been able to detect his presence, insinuating that this kid (no, this man) knew what he was doing. Newt’s adrenaline had been pumping for a solid ten minutes, ever since Tina first opened the apartment door. He had unashamedly leapt in front of her for the second time in ten days. Again, like the last time, Newt remembers the heaviness of these actions at the worst possible time. Anything could have lashed out at him, seriously harming him or worse. Yet, he had done it. One might say that Newt would do that for anyone, but Newt himself knew this wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all. 

Tina and Newt take a dueling stance. Tina looks at ease in the position (as “at ease” as someone can look in a life or death situation) and Newt feels extremely awkward. Knees bent and weight in his legs, he keeps his wand aloft and his hand involuntarily shakes. He can hear Theseus laughing, but he is fully aware this his older brother is nowhere near him. It was just him and Tina against the world. 

“Blimey…” the silhouette against the sky raises a hand to his face and immediately drops his arms.  
“Miss Goldstein? Newt?” now that the voice speaks their names, it does sound awfully familiar. That outline is actually one that they’ve seen before… 

“ _Gideon?_ ” Newt busts out in a full-on snarl, earning him a surprised glance from Tina, but she says nothing. They wait a few minutes for Gideon Gray, head of security of Hogsmeade, to cross the gap between the buildings and hand over his wand. 

“My _wand?_ ” says Gideon indignantly, securing his wand tighter against his chest. Newt really does wonder how Gideon functions. He is terribly short and undeniably skinny. Then again, Newt knew he was rather tall and also undeniably skinny.   
“Yes, your wand.” Newt snaps, reaching out his hand and making a snatching motion. It’s safe to say that he and Gideon hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot. This could be owed to the way Gideon pointed his wand directly at Newt’s chest during their first meeting, or the way he referred to Tina as “Miss Goldstein” and Newt as simply “Newt”.   
“Hand it over, Grey.” Tina insists. Gideon stares at her for a second before glancing at Newt with his mouth opening to protest. Newt swiftly snatches the man’s wand before he has time to get a word out. 

The trio cross into safe territory by means of crossing from one roof to the next and Disapparating back to Hogsmeade. There, Newt throws Gideon against a wall and wishes desperately to strangle him by the collar. Tina, however, gives Newt a look that makes him stand down. He stands off to the side, glaring at Gideon all the while. All grudges aside, it was a very weird situation. Gideon, the only auror currently stationed at Hogsmeade, had been far from his post. He hadn’t cursed Tina or Newt upon sight, which was a good sign, but what had he been doing there? 

“Talk.” Tina orders, allowing Gideon to sit cross-legged on the ground. She and Newt stand over him.   
“This is all just a misunderstanding, see…” Gideon attempts and Newt’s hair rises up on the back of his neck. He had said that more than 100 times during his time at Hogwarts after being discovered in various illegal spots. Sometimes the Slytherins were the ones to find him. That always got ugly.   
“I was one of the first to hear about the Brown’s disappearing, so I went to their apartment to look for them. It was absolutely blasted with some kind of burning charm… Anyway, I charmed it to let me know anytime a wizard or witch entered and made it impossible to Disapparate away.” Gideon rushes through the story, allowing the words to spill over him in a most unattractive of ways (Newt thinks this bitterly because, despite his stature, Gideon was rather good looking). Newt is thinking of saying something along the lines of a shouting match, but Tina takes a different approach. 

“You did that all by yourself?” she inquires, eyes shining enough to make Newt nervous. Gideon nods, picking at the grass below his trousers.   
“Well, then…” Tina turns away from the group.  
“Let’s talk about what we know.” 

______________

The three end up in The Three Broomsticks. Tina denies a drink, but Newt orders her a pint of butterbeer anyway. After waking up from his coma-like nightmares (or rather _being woken up_ ) Newt had received his first profit cheque. According to slip of paper, 7 people had bought his book in a week. Newt thought that was a good start. 

“There are couple of possibilities about how this is all connected.” Tina says after a particularly deep swig of the butterbeer. After a foamy mustache appears, Newt and Gideon exchange an amused glance before Newt remembers his morals. While Gideon smiles, Newt prepares his handkerchief.   
“The Brown family could have been in league with Grindelwald. Darla discovered and was captured.” Tina offers, glancing at Newt enough to wipe the mustache from her lips. Newt was doubtful of Anna’s (the Hufflepuff who had been bullied at school) involvement with the plot. She had been very sweet and, for the most part, innocent.   
“I don’t know the likelihood that their daughter was in on it.” Newt admits. Both Gideon and Tina stare at him curiously. While Tina speaks, Gideon continues to use a probing glare.   
“Some kids are raised in the wrong environment.” Tina proffers. The words rebound through his head until they’re echoing from the past, dredging up history that Newt had long ago buried in hopes of never seeing again.

He had been a teenager when it happened. Tall, gawky and reaching his peak awkwardness, Newt spent his school days wandering in a daydream. The only times he was present in reality was during Quidditch matches, Care of Magical Creatures class, forest ramblings and whenever he was with Leta. His crush was undeniable and unmistakable, yet he thought he could keep himself concealed. 

Leta was a Slytherin. During their long, forbidden talks when she would sneak into the Hufflepuff Common Room, she often voiced her dismay over having hardcore Slytherin parents. Newt was enthralled by her tales of evil parents because that’s what he believed they were: simple tales. It wasn’t until a formal letter arrived to the Hogwarts staff requesting that a Newton Artemis Fido Scamander be kept from conversing with a Leta Lestrange that Newt realized this was much more serious. One of the biggest doners to the school at the time, the Hogwarts stuff was in no position to disobey. Newt had been smug. For the first time in his life (and the last time), Newt was smug. He believed he and Leta, with their exceptional knowledge of Hogwarts routes, would be able to meet each other secretly on a regular basis. Entranced by her dark skin and silky braids and, most of all, the amount of attention she paid Newt, he was intoxicated on the idea of love. 

The following summer, he spent most daylight hours shut up in his room, reading or writing notes. At night, he snuck into the Hippogriff barn and choked on his own sobs. 

That one night, his mother found him. 

“Newt?” Tina’s voice fizzles through Newt’s daydream (or daynightmare) and he chugs the remainder of his butterbeer to lift the pint over his face. He was sweating now and he felt thoroughly disgusting walking through his past like that. It always made him feel clammy. 

Newt, in an attempt to give the impression that he was paying attention (hurting Tina was farthest from his intention), clears his throat and begins to speak.  
“You haven’t mentioned Darla Fey being a part of it.” Newt just hopes Tina actually hadn’t mentioned Darla Fey. In truthfulness, he had been wondering if the common denominator in the situation was another auror. Daniel Jackknife had a spotless record and, unless under the Imperius Curse, could be ruled out. Darla, on the other hand...   
“Darla’s a nice girl, I met her once or twice.” says Gideon with an air of authority. Tina, however, is still looking at Newt with a funny expression on her face. Newt’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs and she shakes herself.   
“He has a point.” Tina reasons. Gideon leans back in his bar stool, arms crossed and eyes burning into Newt. They were having a silent standoff, except one of them was unaware it was taking place. Newt was still swimming through the goo of his past, unable to drag himself from the quicksand. 

Like that, the trio disbands. Gideon returns to his post under strict orders to never leave again and Newt and Tina convene silently on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. They climb to the rise of a hill where the steep sloping roofs of Hogsmeade are splayed below them. Hogwarts looms in the distance, a sight that stirs something within Newt’s chest. He had crawled over most of the grounds of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts alike. Each blade of grass was associated with some memory that Newt didn’t welcome. 

“You act different every time we’re here.” Tina says abruptly, stopping to turn to Newt with her hands in her coat pockets. Newt quickly averts his gaze, unable to answer. He has no excuse. His willpower dwindled every second that he spent with Tina, and now his supports were going to crash down. There was a battle looming on the horizon, but he didn’t have the confidence to face it. The last time had been here, Tina had seem him during a breakdown. He promised himself it’d never happen again and he broke down at his parent’s house, but how long could he keep going before Tina realized? 

“We should go.” Newt mumbles. Not the best approach to the situation, but the idea of returning to his flat and cracking open his suitcase is too tempting. Tina nods slowly before pinching the edge of his coat fabric. Her lack of contact is startlingly noticed by Newt, but he says nothing. They were 10 days into the journey of their lives, but Newt felt like it was already over. He had screwed up too many times. 

_Seasonally heavy humidity settles at the top of the barn, wrapping around Newt as he curls himself up in the loft. With knees pulled up to his chin and the loft window open to allow a breath of fresh air, Newt gasps for air. His chest tightens as if a Lethifold is suffocating him. When he looks down, nothing is physically touching him. Mentally, he’s in shambles. When he blinks, he can only see her._

_Brown hair spilling over her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall, Newt’s hands pull at his trousers until a satisfying rip can be heard. Several minutes of this torturous activity results in a tear streaked boy. One might expect this kind of behavior from a young boy who fits in the nooks and crannies of the loft, but Newt is seventeen. His long limbs feel giant compared to the space, but he simply doesn’t care. He wants to claw his freckles from his skin and shred his personality from his body. Most of all, he wants Leta back._

That’s all that Newt allows himself to recall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leta's story is going to bust out now, following to that first thing I hinted at in the notes above. Please leave feedback. I've been receiving less comments and I know sometimes people don't have the energy to write a review, but if you can, please do! It lets me know how my writing is. Thanks guys!


	17. Fake Certificate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Newt share a tender night (nope, it's not what you think!). Theseus returns to the suitcase to a cold Newt and an upsetting lap through an old memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up! We get more insight about Laura Deval and Theseus in this chapter, as well as some hints (like, major clues) as to what Darla Fey really is.

After ten days, Newt is still growing used to the sight of Tina Goldstein in his suitcase. Tina had been in London for nearly 240 hours and had the entire Ministry of Magic headquarters at her disposal, yet she chose to constantly return to Newt’s modest flat and do most of her research seated at his work desk. Dozens of habitats and biomes surrounded them in the ugliest manners possible (giant wooden frames with enchanted curtains, random trees sticking from sparse areas, etc…), but the desk itself was overshadowed by the enchanted sky that once overlooked Frank the Thunderbird. Frank was probably in Arizona soaring freely and happily with a mate, but Newt still missed his close friend. Although the Thunderbird was gone, Newt left the sky intact. At sundown, it appears as if fire had been set to the atmosphere. At night, Newt lit lanterns and candles and allowed them to float above his desk. He was absolutely entranced by his magical workings. Tina Goldstein was the only one who ever appeared to be at maximum ease in his suitcase, other than himself; so much so that she falls asleep. 

Newt steps from his workshop, a teacup in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. It takes all of his concentration to make the journey from the workshop to his desk without spilling the steaming beverages and scalding himself. When he finally sets down the cups, he realizes that Tina isn’t at her usual seat. Most of the time, she was bent over a mound of paper with one in her right hand being read while her left hand absentmindedly sorted through the others. There was the occasional note with a quill (she had tried to use an Augery quill the other day and became increasing frustrated when it refuses to take the ink), or the hourly sigh when Tina sat back in her chair, rubbed her eyes and sought out Newt. He made bets with himself on when she’d eventually grow tired, but so far he had never won any money… against himself… 

It was a domestic, homely sensation. He and a woman return home from a day trip and fall into a routine that both of them know extremely well. There were mealtimes and talks around a fireplace, each one increasingly pleasant. It had been ten days of adventure. Ten days of not knowing where he stands, but suddenly feeling like everything was going to be alright when he saw Tina sitting at her favorite spot. 

Why wasn’t she there?

Newt spins around and sees her almost immediately. She’s curled up on the lumpy sofa he placed against the outer edge of his lopsided workshop. He had placed it there for emergency situations (times when he just had to sleep or he’d faint), but he had never used it. Tina, on the other hand, appeared to be quite comfortable. Head resting on the arm of the chair, her hand clutches a piece of paper that’s still held straight, as if she were really reading. Newt can see straight through the act. 

What can he do? Newt is aware that his future may very well be sleeping in front of him; fate may be prompting action. As if on cue, the enchanted sky deepens in its sunset. The horizon remains a faint pink while the rest transforms into a velvety blue. Stars twinkle and lamp light flickers, dancing across the walls, losing Newt to the relaxation of it all. Armed only with a coffee mug, he approaches Tina and quietly lowers himself into the empty spot beside her. He barely has time for a breath before she stirs, lifting her head from the arm of the chair. Her hair has molded itself in a very unflattering way, yet Newt can’t help the stirring in his gut that makes him want to do terribly stupid things and carry out terribly stupid acts. Wordlessly, Newt offers Tina her coffee. 

“Perfect. Thank you.” she whispers, smiling tiredly before taking the mug and wrapping her pale hands around it. She inhales deeply, sucking in the smell of the steaming brew before taking a healthy sip of the liquid.   
“What?” Tina inquires, brown eyes settling on Newt’s. Never had Newt been so overwhelmed. 

He had battled confusion and angst ever since his departure from New York. Here he was, in the present, with the clearest head he had felt in ages. Albeit unaccustomed to the welling up of feelings in his chest, it wasn’t completely foreign. He had experienced it a few times with Leta, staring at each other after a particularly adrenaline-fueled night of creature hunting in the Forbidden Forest. Newt, however, wasn’t plagued by his memories at that time. He had always feared that, staring into Tina’s eyes in such a way, he’d only see Leta. He was in the moment, experiencing tenderness firsthand. Tina was the only one who mattered. 

Newt suddenly realizes he’s been staring like a fool. He quickly peels his eyes away, his mounting courage dwindling, although his heart pumps fire through his veins. _Bloody hell, Newt._ They could very well die within the next hour; that was no exaggeration. Grindelwald could launch a massive attack and wipe out any one of them! Newt couldn’t find the words to speak, nor could he find the expressions to use. He was dumbfounded. Looking at Tina, he was simply awestruck. 

Everything suddenly stops. All bets are off. Newt’s fairly certain the Earth has stopped spinning to hold its breath. Tina sets her empty mug on the floor and yawns. Sinking deliberately in her seat (Newt can perceive things more often than he gets credit for, but he has an image to keep up), Tina’s head comes to rest on Newt’s lap. Her body relaxes and Newt nearly passes out. Whether it’s a sign of interest or a sign of trust, Newt isn’t sure. He simply wants to shout. After so much worrying and hesitating… 

He brings has hand to her side and rests it against her arm. She curls up tighter against him.   
“Good night, Newt.” Tina’s whisper fades into the ambience of the scene. Newt, positively beaming, stifles a laugh.  
“Good night, Tina.” 

__________________

Tina could say that she “wakes up” when the sky begins to turn a gentle shade of gray. However, she was barely sleeping. It was realistically a comatose state in which her body rested but her mind kept working. She recounted information and tried putting the puzzle pieces together and-

No, that was a lie, too. When she found herself with her head in Newt’s lap and his hand resting on the bare spot of her arm, she froze and closed her eyes to savor the moment forever. His hand was cold at first and, even in his legs, she could hear his heart thumping like he might keel over of a heart attack. Worried about his health, Tina nearly sat up, but she restrained herself. His fingers started to get warm against her skin and felt like they _belonged there_ , whereas his heart stopped thumping so loudly and Tina felt like his head might have lolled back. 

There was work to do. 

Tina said this to herself so often over the past 10 days that it felt like a lie. Of course, there truly was work to do, but she was just using it as an excuse to stop pursuing the odd (dare she say romantic?) thoughts of the last six months. 

A low, wobbling call sparks life into both Newt and Tina. Tina immediately picks up her head, recognizing the call but still feeling on edge from recent events. Newt jerks awake, hand tightening on her arm (she chalks that up as incidental), and blinks his eyes roughly.   
“What’s wrong?” he mutters before another call echoes throughout the case.   
“Augurey.” Newt says quickly, bringing a free hand to wipe his face. Tina doesn’t know very much about the species, but she can already see Newt’s gears turning.  
“They can sense rain. They’re excellent home forecasters.” despite Newt’s groginess, he speaks with a profound sense of love for this particular creature, causing Tina to hide a shy smile. She realizes none too quickly that they’re close and his hands rests coolly against the small of her back. She can count every detail of his freckled face and every hair on his stubbly chin. His eyes are green-no, they’re blue? They’re somewhere between. They lock sights. Something stirs. 

Tina feels as if she’s about to cast a Patronus. In the blink of an eye, she launches herself through all the warm and bubbly memories she can thoroughly recall. She remembers a kind hand wiping the hair from her face, followed by the cooing of two loving parents. Her brain is taken hostage by memories of late night cocoa with Queenie, facing the world alone. Now, her world was opening. The globe was being shaped by a malicious wizard and Tina was finally starting to realize that it could no longer be her and Queenie. Newt was a part of that small circle, whether he knew it or not. 

“Tina…” Newt begins, setting Tina on edge. Before he can continue, however, the workshop door is thrown open with such force that Tina could believe it came from a tiny hurricane. Theseus, freshly trimmed and looking particularly snob, faces Tina and Newt with a softening expression in his eyes. His hands fall to his hips, pushing back his coat in a rough kind of way. Tina is frozen in her place, instantly angry and silently belligerent as to why Theseus would think it a good idea to visit Newt’s suitcase without a proper apology. Apparently, Newt was thinking the same thing. He snaps back his hand from Tina’s back and jumps to his feet, a gleam in his eye that Tina had never witnessed before. 

The mannerisms of Newt Scamander have long been becoming etched into Tina’s memory and routine. His current stance, however, was that of a confident man. He no longer slouched his shoulders but stood straight, arms dangling at his side, engaged in a rough staring contest of epic proportions. Tina, one of the sternest on the force, isn’t used to the neglection. 

“Good morning, little brother.” says Theseus in a teasing voice. Tina wants to skin him. How absurd could this man be to think that jokes would be appreciated at a time like this? Not to mention, Tina was quite red from being caught with Newt so suddenly. Although a hand on the back is hardly a gesture that indicates something deep… is it?

“Get out.” Newt’s voice borders on a snarl, but Theseus is quick on the draw.   
“I came to talk to Tina about work.” he replies speedily, bypassing Newt with a thrust of his broad shoulder. Tina is at a crossroads. On a personal level, she’d prefer it if Newt and Theseus worked out their differences or just simply left each other alone. On a professional level, Theseus was one of the most formidable on the force… 

“Follow me.” Tina announces, gathering her notes that were strewn around the sofa. She leads the way to the nearest quiet biome, casting Newt an apologetic glance. He stands with his shoulders back to their usual position and his hands stuffed in his pockets. Tina suppresses a sigh. 

Theseus and Newt eerily remind her of two brothers she once knew at Ilvermorny. They had been close friends for the first years and later developed nasty habits that annoyed each other into stony silence. Tina had been reluctant to get involved then and she was no more eager to make an effort this time. However, her conscience wouldn’t just let her watch it go down in flames. She cared for Newt. She cared for his well-being. She wanted him to have a brother. 

“You’re really stupid to come here, you know.” Tina huffs as soon as she and Theseus retreat from earshot. Theseus rolls his eyes, but Tina’s hands fall to her hips and she takes up the posture of someone ready to dole out punishment. Theseus suddenly seems attentive.   
“You had no right to go off on him like that.” Tina adds quickly, not allowing Theseus to get a word in edgewise. 

“What about Laura Deval, hmm? Mr. Deval thinks you… he thinks you…” Tina chokes on the words. It’s hard not to. With so little evidence, how can you verbally accuse someone of causing a wife to be unfaithful? It had relatively no bearing on the task at hand, so why was Tina bringing it up? She had no idea, but fire was piping through her. 

Theseus feigned surprise. All too late he realized he should be raising his eyebrows or tilting his head to indicate mystery, but it was too late. His emotions betrayed him and Tina sighed heavily. She pinched the bridge of her nose, head shaking.   
“Theseus, _really?_ ” 

“It’s not what you think. Truly.” Theseus caves, his voice that of a sincere wrongdoer admitting to his crimes. Tina simply stares at him. Admittedly, they have a contest to see who will break first. Whether it’s Tina’s experience staring down Queenie before she would do something a bit reckless, or maybe just her ability to hold her own, she wins. Theseus lowers himself to the ground and closes his eyes. Tina can tell he’s taking himself back to a time long ago. 

“I fought long and hard during that war. It was brutal warfare, even for wizards.” Theseus begins, eyebrows twitching with effort.   
“I survived that whole damned war. I nearly got killed every time I stepped foot on the battlefield, but I managed to keep myself together.” despite any flaws Tina might see in Theseus, he could certainly paint a picture. Tina hadn’t fought in the war. She had been too young, but she lived through it anyway. She learned all about it when she trained to be an auror. Pictures upon pictures of blackened earth and wizards standing off… it was enough to rightfully terrify her. Theseus had lived through it. 

“Halfway through, a wizard got transferred to my unit. His name was Joseph Deval.” Theseus takes a steadying breath.   
“We became good friends, for whatever reason. We charged into battle together, crouched together and worked together to take down some of the most unsavory characters this world has ever seen. Then it was the final year. We were winning. We were approaching the blessed end.” Theseus’ voice cracks and he rubs his eyes. Tina’s heart aches just a bit. She leans forward to tell him that he shouldn’t talk, not if it hurts that much. He beats her to the punch, plodding onward.  
“It was the last raid we ever did. The enemy was suicidal. They just wanted to win, but…” Theseus raises puffy eyes from his hands. His shoulders bring themselves into a shrug.  
“They killed him. It makes you realize how valuable your time is.”

His words settle in the air. Tina leans back, hands running over the grass below their legs. It’s impossible to act positive after such startling words, or even be sympathetic. Tina had lost a few supposed friends during her time at Ilvermorny. She had known great aurors who died in service, but she had never truly lost a best friend. At the thought of losing Queenie or even Newt, she’s getting choked up.   
“I went home and his sister was the first person I told. They were very close, you see… I visited regularly to make sure she was doing okay. We just… got close.” says Theseus, eyes swimming and beads of sweat forming on his neck. This time, his emotions finally barricade him from continuing. He drops his gaze and blinks uncertainly at the ground while Tina is left to sort through the pieces. The answer she sought could not be reached through context clues.   
“She got married out of the blue.” Theseus adds with a note of finality. Tina can feel the sadness seeping from his words; the most emotion Theseus had shown since Tina’s arrival in London. 

He had lost his chance. 

“I’ve been doing research on Darla Fey.” Tina breaks the tense silence, proffering several pieces of paper to Theseus. He takes them, nonchalantly hiding his face between the sheets of white. In truth, she doesn’t want to linger on the situation. It hit too close to Tina, who always feared that she was missing opportunities left and right. She hated taking those giant leaps that would toss her into turmoil, but she also despised knowing she had made the wrong choice.   
“She seems surprisingly clean. No complaints, no prior issues…” Tina flips rapidly through papers documenting Darla’s early life and auror career. Theseus takes the paper in his fingers and studies it. His frown deepens and his brows furrow. You don’t have to be a scholar to spot confusion or worry within his face. He turns the paper around to Tina, eyes ablaze with a new emotion.

“Where are her references?” Theseus inquires. When Tina doesn’t immediately answer, Theseus starts sifting through the papers at lightning pace.   
“Every auror graduate has to have their professors give their opinions on their work. It’s required, especially for a girl her age. So why-” Theseus delves into it, but Tina doesn’t doesn’t need him to finish. It’s clicking. It’s that inspiring moment in which a dozen puzzle pieces come together to complete a large chunk of the equation. Without fail, Tina get’s a surge of hope and accomplishment. 

She and Theseus are on their feet now. Previous conversation long forgotten, they migrate to Newt’s desk where the bulk of Tina’s papers remain. Newt appears with a yoke across his shoulders and two buckets hanging precariously on the ends. Before he can lay into Theseus, Tina gives her head a tiny shake. He gets the message and sets down the buckets before hurrying over. 

Tiny oddities are spotted by Theseus, a resident British auror who certainly knows his stuff. Mostly everything matches up, but there were a few pieces of mismatched information that make Tina and Theseus wonder just how real Darla Fey is.   
“It’s very good. I’ll give her that much.” Theseus murmurs, closely inspecting the copy of a document containing her graduation certificate.   
“Grindelwald knows who to pick.” Tina adds, gravitating towards Newt on the other side of the desk. She quickly explains everything, watching as his eyes slip from her face and wander to the desk. He leans forward, palms against the table edge. Tina feels sorry for him. The past few days have been chaotic and the talk that she promised herself would happen kept getting pushed aside. This investigation was wearing her close to paper thin. Newt had been her home and her companion. She hadn’t taken the time to wonder how he might suffer from it all. 

“Newt…” Tina sucks in a breath, glancing back at the papers. She isn’t reading; she’s rehearsing what she’ll say.  
“I think Anna Brown is in trouble.” says Tina gently, causing Theseus to peel his eyes from his work. Newt looks to her too, mouth slightly agape and a fleeting expression traversing his face. He immediately forms a tight line with his lips and nods curtly.  
“Well, let’s find her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoahhh there's a boatload going on now. To help you sort it all out:
> 
> Tina fell asleep with her head in Newt's lap
> 
> Theseus admits to being _close_ to Laura Deval (with a war backstory there)
> 
> Darla Fey appears to have fake papers!
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter up soon. Please leave comments and feedback!


	18. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina dive into an adventure that will field a traitor, a beaten man and allow them to come one step closer to the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have been HUGELY busy lately, what with school and a few other circumstances. I apologize if this chapter is too short. I'm still in love with the series, though, so don't for a second think I'm losing energy ;). There are important points in this fast-paced chapter. Enjoy!

Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are overrun by five separate aurors, running about in search of clues. Charlie Hooper attended, still feeling guilty for the dangerous experience he left his partner in when he opted out on the volunteer rescue mission. Dana Reese (said partner) was also at his side. They left the main group immediately, circling each other like any veteran team would. Theseus and Gideon Gray discussed any favorite haunts that one might have outside of Hogsmeade. The older man and the young auror got along surprisingly well. Although they didn’t partner up, Tina knew Gideon would continue singling out Theseus for valuable information. Once they were gone, Tina and Newt were left together. Previous night all but forgotten, Newt keeps his eyes fixed to the ground. Tina turns to speak to him.

 

“I know a place. It’s in the woods, just beyond there.” Newt says quickly, successfully interrupting Tina. He motions with his hand to the ominous mountain side. Tina could stop and ask how he knew it was there, but time was too valuable. 

_Time is too valuable._ She remembers Theseus choking over his own words from his best friend’s death. The chiseled man was somewhere in Hogwarts right now, using his time to the best of his ability. Tina felt the sand dropping through her hourglass. Her time here was valuable. Wand in one hand, she takes Newt’s with the other.   
“Show me.” 

_________________

_Old haunts, you say?_ Newt immediately lights up. Not in a cheerful way, but in a way that he finally knows his knowledge will come in handy. Theseus and Gideon had been attempting to recall all the favorite hide-away areas on the Hogsmeade and Hogwarts ground, but Newt was the real expert. Every cave, burrow, ravine and tall tree was a place to host an injured magical creature until their malady had been sufficiently taken care of. One place left unmentioned by Gideon Gray or Theseus (who seemed to get along like true brothers) was The Cave. 

 

The Cave was simply “The Cave” because it was unknown by most of the students of Hogwarts. Newt discovered it when soaring through the sky on the back of a stray hippogriff. Leta had been the first to visit it with him, but it was relatively difficult to reach during school days. If Christopher Peckings had done a good job surveying the area, it was possible he could have discovered the cavity in the mountain. 

Newt leads Tina while in a dreamlike state. The previous night had been marvelous. Not in that way, no, but marvelous in a _Aha!_ kind of way. Maybe to a regular man who spent his night asleep with a woman’s head in his lap, the session of running with their hands clasped together was expected. For Newt, however, it was entirely uncalled for. And entirely loved. 

 

They rush across Hogsmeade, through the grounds and into the woods with the speed of two youngsters against the world. It quickly became clear that they were not at all youngsters and couldn’t keep up a run for too long or they’d pass out. So they slowed down. Newt immediately noticed a difference between running and walking with his hand being held tightly by Tina Goldstein. When running, it was hard to notice. He had caught her after she jumped from the death potion in MACUSA headquarters. They ran holding hands then, too, but neither of them really noticed. Walking was different. 

Walking, however focused they might be, made it obvious that they weren’t just clinging on to keep up with each other. So, Newt waited for Tina to remove her hand. She didn’t, thus leading into an awkward moment in which they both stumbled while repositioning their hands until their fingers slipped comfortably around each other. Clammy, sensitive and embarrassed at how rough his skin felt against Tina’s softness, Newt plodded onward. 

They came to the point in the forest when flat, grassy earth was no longer visible through the trees. They were surrounded completely by tall pines that creaked in the gentle wind. Clouds were reclaiming the sky and the smell of rain drifted with them. Tiny calls echo from the treetops and small scuffling can be heard on the earth. 

“How much longer?” Tina asks. She isn’t complaining, but Newt can see that she’s out of breath. He stops near a fallen tree, allowing her to lean against the log. Their hands fall against the cool, damp bark of the fallen pine. 

_SNAP_

 

Newt and Tina are not inseparable. At the sound of the stick breaking, the two leap apart, wands at the ready within an instant. Newt is no stranger to dangerous situations in dense forests. Sprinkles of rain dapple the treetops, sliding down the glossy pine needles and dripping to the ground. The rain creates a blanket around sounds, muffling it. Echo between the trees make it impossible to pinpoint the exact location. Luckily, whatever made the noise wasn’t trying to stay quiet. 

A rock, roughly the size of Newt’s hand, zips through the air so close to Newt’s head that he feels his bangs get blown back from the wind. It smacks into a tree trunk with a dull thunk, falling to the ground. Tina and Newt are no longer sharing glances. They can feel each other, knowing exactly what to think. Newt moves to the rock while Tina stands in front of him, eyes scanning the forest. Newt kicks over the rock with a toe. A symbol has been scrawled in black ink. It’s faintly recognisable, but Newt can’t place a finger on where it’s from. The symbol are three separate lines. The outline is a triangle, filled with a vertical line cutting down the center. The vertical line is overshadowed by a circle. 

“Grindelwald.” Tina mutters. That’s enough to set a suffocating air of danger over the pair. This rock didn’t just happen to get that symbol. Tina and Newt weren’t alone. 

In a matter of seconds, they reach a decision. The rain has intensified, flattening Newt’s hair to his head and taking the fluff out of Tina’s. If they weren’t in such a dire situation, Newt would have laughed. In fact, he could think of several things he would have done. Perhaps that was just desperation talking. 

Despite the stormy weather, Tina drops her coat. She sets it against the fallen log and carefully levitates the rock onto it. Although it appears harmless, neither could tell if it was laced with Dark Magic. Their journey to the cave continues, but their hands have fallen away and it’s too dangerous to reconnect. They crawl over rocks and hike up hills, the mountain coming closer and closer until the ground below them starts to slope softly upwards. That’s when the unfamiliar scream pierces the earth. 

_______________

Tina is already on edge, not to mention freezing and quite literally soaked to the bone. The rain pounds upon she and Newt. When their destination is in sight, their joy short lived. 

She recounts the rock painted with Grindelwald’s famous symbol. She had left the rock on top of her coat in case something happened and Theseus came sniffing that way. The rock was the first indication that danger was afoot and that they should turn back immediately. However, it was also the first sign that they were on the right track. It had been so long since Tina followed a substantial lead, she couldn’t help but relish the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. 

“Almost there.” Newt says encouragingly, eyes lifted towards the outline of the cave embedded in the mountainside. Tina draws up next to him, focusing on keeping her breathing level and her gears functioning. She hadn’t been on a proper hike and chase for several days. She felt sluggish and out of shape compared to Newt, who strode with ease and kept a stony face of patience throughout the journey. He quickly lost this expression when the screams began. 

Tina thought she was going to faint. The screeches of terror echoed through the valley, attacking her ears like invisible, dive bombing rodents. She and Newt fall into each other from sheer surprise when the first horrifying scream hits them. They stand quickly, wands drawn and twitching in their hands, and instinctively rush forward. The chase is on. 

They travel the ground with thumping hearts and bleeding ears, drawing closer and closer to the cave until it’s just above their heads. From below, there was no way to tell where exactly the blood-curdling shouts were coming from, but now the source could be pinpointed. The cave was the answer to everything. They scramble up the rocky hill, feet slipping uselessly over loose stones. Newt grabs Tina by the elbow when she slips, chin slamming against the ground. Pain jolts through her, rattling her teeth. With Newt’s support, she leaps back to her feet and they draw closer. A second before their heads appear in the entrance of the cave, a blast of air sends them sprawling backwards. 

In a worldly sense, the action is very telling to Tina’s life. She worked her way up the hill, putting forth her best effort, only to get blasted back from her goal. This time, Newt was with her. They don’t get a sight of what knocks them off balance. Tina does a full somersault backwards, crying out in exasperation and pain as rocks dig into her ribs and head. Similarly, Newt is grunting, but he steadies himself before he slides down the hill. Tina manages to dig her toes into the dirt and right herself, just in time to see a streak of black shoot through the sky. Tina and Newt are steady for a moment. The blackness is like a trail of billowing smoke with a mind of its own. Alternately, Tina realizes that’s exactly what the smoke is. The screams have stopped. The torturer was on the run. 

She raises her wand to the sky, takes her best aim at the smoke (it was extremely difficult to predict its movements) and bellows.   
“ _STUPEFY!_ ” the charm is lobbed with expert precision. Tina feels her wand arm go shakey. She falls back on her heels, watching in a slowed version of time. The curse appears to be heading just above the blackness. At the last second, it changes directions. It hits square in the bulk. 

The smoke transforms. It binds together and materializes into a body cloaked in black. Already fifteen feet in the air, the body falls. Surprisingly, Newt rushes down the hill in attempts to get himself below the person, but he’s too far away. Neither can recall the Stopping Charm at that moment. The body hits the ground with a sickening thud. 

“Newt, the cave!” Tina shouts. She and Newt locks eyes for a second before he nods in understanding and dashes up the hill. Loose pebbles scamper wildly down the hill from where his boots touch. In a mass of long limbs and determination, he disappears into the cave. 

Tina reaches the fallen person. Her brain has completely shut down of any thoughts aside from adrenaline-fueled instincts. She kneels beside the body, full of rage at the sight she sees when she pulls back the black hood of the cloak. Flaming red hair gives her the first indication, but the face is all she needs. Darla Fey. 

She’s still alive. Tina is willing to bet she has a broken bone or two, but the girl is still breathing. Barely. Her breaths are raspy and harsh and her hand grips her side. Tina makes a small noise, prompting Darla to open her eyes. They make eye contact and Tina feels a small inkling of satisfaction. 

“TINA!” Newt echoes from the mouth of cave. Tina turns to look at him. Held in his arms is a bloody, bruised and beaten man. Christopher Peckings. 

_____________

Newt can safely say he didn’t expect a giant smoke creature to emerge from the cave when they first arrived. Then again, he didn’t expect to find a nearly dead man in the cave, either. Tina’s sharpshooting skills with her stunning charm was actually miraculous. Still, he couldn’t linger to tell her so. He charged into the cave and lit his wand. 

It had been years since he entered through the stony opening. The air was the same musty smell, but tinged with something unfamiliar. Newt warily delved deeper into the depths of the mountain. Despite the cool temperature and his rain soaked clothing, beads of sweat pebbled his neck and forehead. Nothing had jumped out at him yet. 

Then, Newt heard it; muffled sobs distorted by grunts of pain. Newt draws closer until the ghostly pale face of a man leers in the distance.   
“Who’s there?” Newt asks dumbly, his voice sounding fake. The man stirs enough to cower away from Newt, putting a hand over his eyes to block the white of Newt’s wand. Newt quickens his pace.   
“Who are you?” Newt whispers, coming to kneel beside the man. His edginess has disappeared at the large, baseball sized swell on the man’s right cheek. The rest of him is just as purple. The man is average in height and wears the average wizard’s cloak, but the material has been ripped to show his undergarments (also badly torn). The sight of him makes Newt’s stomach twist in anger and horror. He had seen mangled bodies of creatures, dragons and men during the war; this was fighting for a rank. His size and shape is all Newt can make of the man. The man lets his hand fall from his face, staring at Newt with a wild craze that frightened beasts tend to get. In one swift motion, the man grabs Newt’s free hand in his and rasps almost incoherently. Luckily, he repeats it at least three times.

“It’s the girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am just a humble writer who thrives on the feedback of her peers. Shoot me some feedback so I know how i'm doing!


	19. Boys and a Brew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Theseus disappear with Darla Fey to question her. Newt is left with Gideon, Christopher, and some insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY! I did not abandon you, loyal readers! I'm so sorry for the hiatus, but life kind of got in the way and I got the dreaded writer's block. So yes, this chapter is a bit short and a bit all over the place, but bear with me. Thanks for all the continuing support of England Escapades.

Tina is disconcerted, but not disheartened. Darla Fey, a bona fide traitor, lays at her feet (silenced, thanks to quick charm handiwork by Tina) while Newt clings to one of the missing aurors. 

Tina isn’t sure how she recognizes Christopher. She had only ever seen a picture of him, but there was something characteristic about his face. Tina quickly incapacitated Darla in fear that she’d escape (by means of a binding charm) before rejoining Newt to discuss their options. The trek back looks longer from their stance on the hill and the thought of levitating or carrying the injured people is a daunting task. Tina doesn’t shy from challenges, but she’s questioning the validity of her energy. Even if she feels heartened and glad that they had recovered two important missing persons, her knees still felt wobbly and her skin was as cold as ice. The rain felt like tiny drops of frost pelting her skin. 

Still, she reminds herself to focus. 

“We can’t walk, Tina.” says Newt. It’s a given that they cannot Disapparate and Apparate back to Hogsmeade. Christopher is badly beaten. Crusts of blood remain on small cuts, whereas the rest of him is black, blue and swollen. It’d be too dangerous to Disapparate in such a critical condition. Tina nods to Newt, finding reassurance in the tentative eyes he lays on her. All the while, he clings to Christopher in almost a bridal carry. The auror is passed out against Newt’s arm. Tina raises her eyes, staring directly at Newt until she can count every freckle and spot every miniscule drop of water clinging to his eyelashes. She raises her wand, albeit shakily. 

“ _Periculum_.” the colorful flare springs into the sky from the tip of her wand, erupting into an umbrella of bright sparks above their heads. After that, they descend the slope of the mountain and find a grassy area in which Darla and Christopher could be laid and Newt and Tina could keep a careful eye on them. Darla was bound to a tree, whereas Christopher was leaned against one gently. When the unconscious man slumps over helplessly, frustration and anger begins to boil within Tina’s veins. She turns on Darla. 

“So?” Tina snarls, getting close to the redheaded auror, wand drawn. Darla can’t reply. Her tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth and it’s obvious that Tina has the stance of someone willing to cast a few more hexes. Instead, Darla raises her pointed chin and boldly bores into Tina’s eyes. Newt stands nearby, wand drawn and eyes wide. 

Tina isn’t sure why she’s so upset. She had rescued a few missing persons before; each one was usually beaten up. Christopher had reached a whole new level, but Tina was still missing the crucial aspect of feeling detached. That was, after all, a part of her training. Sympathize with the victims just enough to get them safe and on the road to recovery. Queenie always thought this was baloney, which is why the entire headquarters kept her away from the criminal aspect of things (especially the courthouses). They once tried using her to read a man’s mind and discover if he was innocent or not. Queenie fled the room crying.

Darla had struck a very wrong cord. 

“Tina…” Newt whispers, drawing Tina’s attention away from Darla. The moment she seeks him out, her anger subsides slightly. Her desire to slap Darla disappears altogether while staring at the lanky form of Newt Scamander. He nods her over to the side of a thick tree. Tina gives Darla and harsh glance and obliges, following Newt into a secret conversation. 

____________

Newt tells her about Christopher’s statement. The “It’s the girl.” statement. He is feeling extremely exhausted, thanks to the amount of anxiety and fear weighing on him. Tina still carries herself with the air of a proud Ministry (err… MACUSA) investigator, but Newt can also tell she’s feeling worn. Darla capture could be what triggers an all-out attack, or an ambush to get her back. It doesn’t help matters when the redhead continues to scan the sky with interest. He, too, casts a flare from his wand and impatiently awaits his brother’s arrival. Christopher is in need of medical attention that Newt doesn’t feel comfortable administering. Tina, meanwhile, stands in thought. She’s thoroughly soaked to the bone and her pants are muddied from top to bottom, as well as her hands. Her hair is plastered against her hair in a wet mess, yet something makes Newt entirely ignore that. It’s the fiery blaze in her eyes. Newt uses those eyes as his wings when he approaches her. 

“Terrible weather for a rescue mission.” he mutters, standing close. His fingers slide into his pockets. Tina makes a small grunt, halfway between a chuckle and a form of agreement. Newt takes it in full stride. Before he can tell exactly what he’s doing, he has shrugged his coat from his shoulders and offered it to Tina. Tina denies it at first, but a shiver wracks her body and Newt reaches forward, laying the blue material over her. Now, Newt may be shorter and scrawnier than his strapping older brother, but he was by no means tiny. The shoulder gaps of his coat clung to Tina’s upper arm and the sleeves dangled below her waist. She hugs the coat closer to her, nodding in appreciation to Newt. He smiles softly and slips away.

The whole experience had been jolting. After several days of tiny scraps of information, finding two important persons was a jackpot. There was much left to be discovered and uncovered, but the flame of hope burned strong within Newt and Tina’s stomach. It was not the beginning of the end. 

Theseus and Gideon found them shortly after Newt laid his coat across Tina. They appeared from the thick forest and Gideon galloped forward, whereas Theseus remained wary. They both spotted Darla first and exchanged looks of confusion. After all, Darla was still an auror in their eyes. Yet here she was, bound to a tree and unable to talk to sway their minds. Tina and Theseus immediately began talking. Newt had to look away because Theseus continuously grinned at him after taking a long look at the coat on Tina’s shoulders. It was dumb luck that Newt saw Darla’s first look of real fear. Her eyes remained glued to the sky, but her jaw was no longer locked in its determined place. Now, she was fidgeting. 

“Tina, perhaps you and I should escort Miss Fey-if that is your real name-to the Ministry headquarters.” Theseus suggests in a voice thick with fake politeness. Newt pays no mind to the way Darla recoils as Theseus comes closer. Instead, he’s panicking internally at the thought of being separated with Tina, left only to Gideon Grey’s company. Tina and Newt lock eyes and she smiles tentatively. Newt swallows hard. 

“You need to get Christopher back to Hogsmeade _immediately_.” says Theseus to Gideon and Newt, face stony and emotionless. Gideon jumps into action, muttering a few incantations at Christopher’s side. Newt drags himself to the same spot, joining in on the spells. He feels a warm hand squeeze his arm before a snap sparks the air. Darla, Theseus and Tina disappear.

Newt and Gideon exchange a glance. Newt’s gaze is rather blank, but Gideon smiles broadly and bounces away to Christopher’s body. Newt huffs in exasperation.  
“They should call you Giddy Gideon.” Newt says shortly before readying his wand.  
“My mum already does.” Gideon retorts cheerily before muttering an incantation. Newt follows suit until Christopher’s body lifts slowly from his slouched position, hovering perfectly in the air. While Gideon appears to be having no trouble keeping his concentration, an exhausted Scamander feels his confidence waning. Christopher’s legs give a little jerk. 

 

“Focus, Newt.” Gideon says loudly, possibly jolting Newt farther from a sound mind. Eventually, they move. 

The trek through the woods is tedious. Gideon, who seems to have complete control over Christopher’s upper half, steers the man head-first through the woods. Christopher’s legs aren’t quite so lucky. Newt wants to think. He wants to be able to sit down (with Tina) and think about the events that they just witnessed. He has to bottle the sense that his life is out of control and focus only at Christopher. By the time they reach Hogsmeade, Newt is soaking wet and on the verge of a mental breakdown. Breakdowns, emotional or physical, are best treated by a pint of butterbeer. 

“Busy day, mate?” says the bartender who places down the frothy goodness in front of Newt. Newt, who was attempting to dry his shirt, raises his head and nods softly. The bartender is exceptionally tall and bulky with muscles visible through his long shirt. He’s not broad like Theseus, but he vaguely reminds Newt of his brother, thus making Newt dwell on the fact that Theseus and Tina were probably bonding over their captured criminal.  
“What’s eating ‘ya?” the bartender inquires after a particular aggressive sip from Newt. Gideon, who has seated himself particularly close, perks up.  
“Girl troubles, then.” the bartender smiles in a sympathetic way. Newt feels his skin go hot and possibly red. He steals a glance at Gideon and finds himself sprawling in the smuggest possible smirk the boy can muster.  
“Name’s Barney.” says the bartender, extending a long-fingered hand. Newt shakes it quickly before drowning himself in his butterbeer sorrows again. 

Newt is the kind of person who hopes for it all to end. In a particularly bad situation, he will come up with a solution (especially if it involves his creatures). In a social situation, he might as well be a helpless baby animal with no one to guide him. Gideon takes full advantage of this situation in an odd way. 

“It’s not girl troubles, Barney.” he says, causing Barney to look up from the rag he runs through a glass. Gideon keeps his eyes fixed on Newt, who is nearing the point of violence on this young auror.  
“She’s crazy about him. Anyone could tell.” with that, the youngster gets to his feet, pays his tab and leaves the building to brave the storm. The rain has picked up in its ferocity and it blows a cold wind through every available crack in the wall. Barney smirks and returns to his dishes, leaving a Scamander boy who’s afraid to take the next step. 

Was it true? Was it so obvious to everyone else? If so, what did they say about Newt? Sure, they had been holding hands before but… No, there was no excuse for that. Nothing had prompted the length of time their fingers spent intertwined. So what would he do? 

Well, in a true Newt Scamander fashion, he would vow to not do anything. And then do the most unthinkable thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Please show some love (or some hate, I don't judge) for this series by leaving some honest feedback. Much appreciated.


	20. Three down, Two to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Theseus question Darla Fey, discovering that she is truly not who she says she is. Meanwhile, Newt spends some time alone in his briefcase, considering where he stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Good to be back, you guys. After some tough times, I've finally returned to my (personal) favorite piece of work that I've ever started. Rereading all the love, I was finally motivated to start this fic up again. Thanks to those of you who have been patient and supportive, and I hope you all enjoy this next installment of England Escapades. It'll be short, yes, but I'm still getting into the swing of things. Also, keep in mind that comedy is something I take seriously between all the characters. It's hard to put comedy into a plot which is riddled with dark magic and near death experiences, but I will try! Ok, enough rambling, enjoy!

The Ministry of Magic interrogating room was intimidating, even to Tina. A few men clad in security robes took Darla away upon their entry to the building, giving Tina and Theseus a chance to steady themselves and make a plan. Tina couldn’t have felt more disgusting and less threatening walking into the room. Her clothes were splattered with mud and her hair was knotted and spikey in the most random of places. She was extremely glad that Newt was not there to witness her blunders.

Oh, Newt… They had come so far in this adventure together, only to be separated when Tina could really have used him most. Still, Peckings needed to be tended to and Darla needed investigating. That was Tina’s job, wasn’t it? To investigate? She supposed she should feel some form of relief now that only two missing persons remained (Anna Marie Brown and Daniel Jackknife). Still, she couldn’t forget the sounds of utter terror that were bellowed by both Laura Deval and Christopher Peckings. Daniel Jackknife’s badge had been the first clue sent to them, and he was still the only missing auror. She knew now that Grindelwald didn’t shy away from dirty tactics or hardcore torture, and her fears for finding Daniel Jackknife alive spread like wildfire. 

“Tina?” Theseus stands just outside the entrance to the room. She looks up, breaking out of her reverie before taking a steadying breath. She feels like she has been trampled and dragged through the lowest of lows, but she knows this must be done. She nods, and the two of them enter the room together.  
Darla Fey is chained to the wall farthest from the door, allowed only enough space to sit in a wooden chair that creaks with every tiny movement she makes. The chains pulse a bright pinkish color every few seconds, leaving Tina confident that they’re charmed expertly for the safety of she and Theseus. Still, one shaky hand rests on her wand. Theseus motions a large hand to the desk separating them from Darla. Tina takes a seat while he, tall and determined, paces the width of the room.  
“What is your name?” he asks, hands clasped behind his back. Darla raises her head with her green eyes locked on Theseus. Tina, having been in the position before, can almost sense a fake amount of confidence. Darla was trying to act dangerous in front an equally—if not more dangerous—auror.  
“Darla Fey.”  
Silence. Tina hears nothing except the thumping of her own heart in her chest, which she thoroughly believes is echoing off the walls. Theseus has stopped, mid-step, and his eyes were fixed on the wall. With a sickening slow turn, his eyes come to rest on Darla. Tina, despite being his partner in this interrogation, can’t help but feel terrified. Anger blazes in his eyes and his lips are upturned in a mixture of a snarl and a smirk. She has spent the past week comparing Theseus to Newt, noticing how he was a completely different personality, but still held the same twinkle and smile wrinkles that Newt had. This, however, was a face that Tina couldn’t honestly believe Newt was capable of making. 

That’s when it happened. Darla’s face screwed up and her eyes quivered in their sockets, as if she was having immense trouble focusing on Theseus’ face. Tina couldn’t help it. Against her better judgement, she swiveled in her chair and stared at Theseus before finally understanding what was going on. It was the same glassy eyed look, albeit more focused, that Queenie wore when she was intentionally reading someone’s mind. It would make sense that the head auror of the Ministry of Magic was a skilled Legilimens.  
“STOP!” Darla cried out, finally letting go before her head drooped her skin went a bright red. Theseus, thinking he was in the clear, let his shoulders sag and his hands fell from their clasped position behind his back. 

“We’ll see who you really are quite soon, won’t we?” says Theseus, chest heaving under his silver waistcoat. Tina didn’t know what that meant, but she could guess it wasn’t good. Theseus nodded to her, and they both departed the room.  
“Polyjuice Potion.” Theseus whispers as Tina passes by him. She took one last look at the redheaded Darla Fey before the door clicked shut. She and Theseus exchanged grim looks before launching into their discussion.  
_____________________________________

Newt Scamander was back at his flat. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure where else to go. He knew Tina was doing work and she could be very busy—too busy to see him—for a long time. Christopher Peckings was receiving intensive care at St. Mungo’s. He wouldn’t be recovered enough to answer questions so quickly, perhaps not ever. Laura Deval was mentally damaged, perhaps Peckings was too. 

Newt mulled this over while in his briefcase zoo. He stood at his work counter, gazing down at the blue speckled feather of a Jabberknoll. His resident Jabberknoll, Flower, sat in a small birdhouse atop a shelf near the fireplace. The warmth was welcome for her, as she was a very old bird and was nearing the end. Newt felt rotten after spending so much time away from his case, or his creatures. They were his loves and his livelihood, and Flower was in need of a careful watch to make sure she passed peacefully and without suffering. Newt also had a blank sheath of paper ready for any notes he may have if he was lucky enough to hear the ear-piercing screech every Jabberknoll releases when it dies. Newt was at a crossroads with emotions, but it wasn’t a simple 4-way stop. No, he was staring down the barrel of numerous roads, sighing heavily because he had no idea which one was the best to traverse. Grindelwald was shadowing everything now—his feelings for Tina, his daily routine and his hopes to travel. With borders tightening on every continent, it was becoming difficult to plan trips to remote areas. Newt’s entire life raised red flags to security, apparently.  
Night closed in on London and the ambient real-time biomes of his suitcase turned to darkness. Stars glisten above his head as he lights a candle by his desk, allowing himself to sit while he medically tended to the numerous scrapes and cuts he received during the day’s events. Magical beasts of all noises cooed softly. He could distinctly hear the Niffler counting up his treasure to make sure none were missing. The peacefulness reminded him of standing on the rooftop of Jacob’s apartment building. The sun had been setting and he and Tina had been standing rather close. He had made her laugh.  
Of course, shortly before that, they had been nearly killed with a death potion by a man pretending to be Mr. Graves. Their first few days together certainly hadn’t been normal. Nothing was normal anymore. 

Newt, feeling rather useless, retires to the sofa against his workshop. Between thoughts of missing Tina’s presence and wondering how Darla Fey was working for Grindelwald, he fell into a restless sleep. Nightmares plagued him—flashes of light and the horrifying screams of those under the Cruciatus Curse. He could hear Christopher Peckings raspy voice echo through the pitch darknes… “It’s the girl…”

______________________

Theseus had sent Tina home. Well, to Newt’s home. The briefcase was beginning to feel like a proper home, despite the lack of Queenie. Tina swore under her breath when she remembered all the details she’d have to try to jam into a letter to write home to Queenie. There were the newest developments, which Tina was eager (despite being exhausted) to see how they played out. Darla Fey was under the influence of a strongly brewed Polyjuice potion. 

“She wasn’t completely vulnerable, there were large chunks of her mind I couldn’t access. Grindelwald must be teaching Occlumency to everyone now.” Theseus had said after seating himself at his office desk. There was a stack of papers on the edge that he immediately began working through, despite the weariness that plagued his posture. Slumped shoulders and buttons coming undone from his vest were telling signs. When Tina suggested sleep, he countered and insisted she go home. It’d be twelve hours before Darla Fey’s true identity was revealed. Every tick of the clock felt like a death sentence for the auror, Daniel Jackknife, who still remained missing. Her plan of action?  
Well, she didn’t have one yet. 

Tina enters Newt’s flat, unsurprised to see his bed empty and his living room barren. The air was cold and damp, causing her to shiver and pull her coat tighter over her shoulders. However, when she descended into his marvelous case, she was comforted. A cheery fire crackled in the hearth and warm air surrounded her, filling up her lungs and diminishing what was left of her energy. When she left the workshop, her eyes fell upon an adorable, crumpled mess. 

The mess was a mixture of long limbs and red hair, also known as Newt Scamander. The man who Tina didn’t believe really slept was comatose on the sofa. She was overwhelmed with emotions at that sight. Tina, the one who prided herself on hiding her emotions as best as possible, was tearing up. In an unprecedented move of confidence, she lurched forward and practically threw herself on the sofa beside Newt. He stirred and blinked his eyes until they settled on her. He looked half asleep, but still awake enough to fairly understand what was happening. Tina was sick of regretting and wondering where she stood, so she offered a smile and laid her head back against the sofa. 

Newt didn’t get enough credit. Despite being one of the most awkward human beings on the planet, he did know his way through many situations. He was smart enough to lay his head in Tina’s lap and place a tentative, freckled hand on her knee. Before Tina drifted off to sleep, she liked to think what Queenie and Mrs. Scamander would say if they saw them in their current position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I know it was short, but cut me some slack! Action will pick back up in the next chapter, so enjoy the fluff while you can! Any feedback would be wonderful. Thanks so much guys.
> 
> *I'd like to clarify*  
> The title refers to the amount of missing persons they still have to find (Daniel Jackknife and the Hufflepuff student, Anna Marie Brown).


	21. Clock Strikes Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina get work done in Newt's workshop before the magizoologist does something not even Dougal could have predicted--invites Tina to a dinner date. While he goes shopping, Tina meets an interesting character in the unsavory part of London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another installment that is, in my opinion, quite a beefcake! (Did I use that term right?) In this chapter, we meet a new character and receive some interesting information about the kids watching Newt and Tina at the Brown's apartment building (see Ch. 16). Enjoy!

Newt was surprisingly cheerful the next morning. He could be heard humming his favorite tune as he swept around the area, oddly coordinated for so early in the morning. His chores were finished quite quickly, as he had done the heavy work to pass time the night before. Tina still remained asleep on the sofa. He had woken up and instantly remembered (with red ears) where he was. He could hear his heart thundering, but he could also hear Tina’s gentle drumming too. He tried to act natural, but how does one act natural when they’ve never been in the blimey situation before? Riddled with frustrations, he practically leaped away from Tina when he finally decided to get a move on. Now, he urgently wishes he could take it back. 

He was at his worktable sketching when he heard Tina awake with a tiny gasp. She practically flew from her seat, muttering intelligible syllables. Newt was ready for this. Armed with a steaming cup of coffee, he also had a muffin (he _might_ have stolen it from the hospital cafeteria) in his arsenal. 

“Hey, hey, settle down.” he whispers as he places a hand on Tina’s shoulder, gently pushing her back into her seat. She gazes up at him, her eyes clearing of the sleep fog that seemed to cover her in the mornings. He was finding it very hard to maintain eye contact, but that wasn’t anything new. What was odd was how Tina seemed to be struggling with the same issue. She dropped her eyes and blindly grabbed the coffee. 

“Thanks, Newt.” she mumbles. Newt doesn’t move. He’s glued to the floor as he shoves his hands in his pockets and stares quizzically at Tina. She was usually so composed, what was wrong? She tugs at the blanket, pulling it closer to her face than necessary. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel very presentable right now.” mutters Tina, daring a glance at Newt. Newt isn’t very good at hiding his facial expressions because he had focused more on teaching himself to never feel emotions in general. Now, staring at a morning Tina, he felt like letting his jaw hang open. Not presentable? Why, she looked amazing! She looked—well, she looked beautiful… Even in his brain, he stumbles over the words and wants to bite his tongue, but he allows himself to admit it. Tina Goldstein looks absolutely beautiful. Her hair is in knots and bits of it cling together with mud; dirt flecked her face and was caked on her clothing, but she radiates a calmness that was more beautiful than the cleanest woman in the world.  
Newt suddenly has a memory of his early days with his parents, which didn’t happen very often. It was the faint conversation between his mother and father before they departed for a night of dancing, leaving Newt and Theseus under the supervision of a babysitter. 

_“You look gorgeous, m’dear.” Mr. Scamander says, a beaming grin crossing his lips._  
“You say that every time, Nigel.” Mrs. Scamander huffs, waving her hand in exasperation, despite the blushing in her cheeks.  
“I just like to remind you…” Mr. Scamander winked. 

Newt wants Tina to know. He wants to remind her. He wants to tell her he isn’t very good at talking about his emotions and feelings at all, but she was hitting off the charts.  
“I think you look beautiful.” he says simply, doing his best not to blurt out the words or stammer over them, as it was very difficult to admit even a portion of his feelings to someone. He turns himself too early to witness Tina’s shock. He goes back to his workshop, picking up a nub of graphite and getting back to work.  
It was several minutes of quiet scratching against paper and gentle sips of coffee before Tina approaches Newt.  
“Darla isn’t who she says she is. Her Polyjuice Potion will be wearing off in a few hours.” Tina says, pulling up a chair beside Newt. He leans back, nodding and thinking to himself that it made sense. Probably most of Grindelwald’s goons used Polyjuice Potions to hide their identities.  
“Do we know where the real Darla Fey—or whatever the girl’s name—is?” asks Newt, wondering what Tina’s quick glance of surprise could have been for.  
“No.” says Tina grimly, getting to her feet to clasp her hands behind her back and pace.  
“I haven’t heard from Reese or Hooper, come to think of it.” she ponders as she stares off into space. Newt had somewhat forgot (as mean as it sounds) about Tina’s partners in the investigation. Charlie Hooper and Dana Reese had last been seen wandering Hogsmeade in search of clues for Christopher Peckings. After the rescue had been carried out by Theseus, Gideon Grey, Tina and Newt, he hadn’t seen them. Tina, apparently, felt this was extremely awful. She groans and collapses into a chair, head falling into her hands.  
Newt froze. Sure, he had just called her beautiful and spent the night with his head in her lap, but she hadn’t been so upset then. Now what was he supposed to do, put an arm around her and comfort her?  
_Bloody hell, Newt_ … he wasn’t unfamiliar to such a display of affection. He visited hundreds of hospitals (to gain research about creature attack victims) and seen the cultural differences, or lack thereof, of how to console someone. 

“Tina, it’s okay.” Newt whispers, leaning forward to shakily press his hand on her knee. When Tina looks up, her eyes are red and wide. Newt knows there’s no backing out now. Why should he want to back out? Just the night before, he had stuffed Leta Lestrange’s picture deeper into the folds of his workshop than he had ever done before. He was finally reconciling himself to the life that was possible, and he wanted it badly.  
With no hesitation, Newt reaches his long fingers to Tina’s face. His fingertips ghost her face and move a swath of hair behind her ear, just as he had done in New York so many months ago. Overcome with a compassion he usually feels for wounded animals, Newt gets to his feet.  
“Come now, you’ll feel better after you shower.” 

***********

Tina and Newt spent the morning together. Every hour or two, an owl would flutter through the opening of the case and come to land at the desk. The whoosh of wind from its wings would send several papers flying. While Newt retrieved them, Tina would grab the letter attached to the bird’s feet. Tina had felt terrible before her shower, especially after realizing she was doing a mighty fine job of screwing everything up. Dana Reese and Charlie Hooper were her partners, yet she barely talked to them. As soon as she was done in a nice hot shower, she scrawled a letter and shipped it off to the two aurors. While her hair dried, she wrote another report to President Picquery. 

“How should I describe Gideon during the rescue yesterday?” Tina asks, absentmindedly tickling the edge of her face with her quill. Without missing a beat, Newt mutters, “Inept and rather annoying.” Tina rolls her eyes and Newt chuckles softly, despite being quite serious. 

“I shall put ‘eager to prove himself, which almost lead to death.’” Tina announces, and they both share in a laugh again. Tina was thinking of their excursion to the Brown’s apartment building. Gideon had certainly proved himself able of producing a decent charm, but he had really raised Tina’s alarms. Something else about that experience still bothered her. 

“Do you remember those kids we saw outside the apartment building?” asks Tina. Newt looks up from his desk and nods sullenly. 

“Who were they?” Tina wonders aloud, realizing this is yet another mystery to solve. 

“Haven’t the foggiest…” Newt shakes his head, vividly remembering the cold look in the children’s eyes. They were doing paperwork and bookwork right now, needing a buffer between such physically tasking assignments. Just then, another owl dove onto the table with such force that it skittered along the loose sheets of white. Newt fished a treat from his pocket and handed it to the owl, who hooted a toot of thanks before flying off. Tina was suspicious of Newt’s pockets enchanted as well. 

“It’s for me.” Newt announced, taking the letter and disc-tossing it onto the other end of the table. The pile of his letters continued to grow. Tina had severe anxiety that he had discovered Queenie’s letter in the middle of the stack and read something utterly embarrassing. 

“Aren’t you going to read it?” she asks tentatively. Newt doesn’t raise his head, but peers out from under the mop of curly hair that hangs over his forehead. Tina suddenly notices the stubble of his face was beginning to turn into something of a beard, although the hairs were very light and hard to see. During her daydreaming and very curious interest in his facial hair, Newt leans forward (almost completely over the table!) and keeps his eyes glued to the ground. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight.” Newt said it in such a rushed manner, accompanied with the heaving of his chest, that Tina was unsure what to think. Dinner tonight… with Newt? They had been eating dinner for a few nights together, but something about this felt different. It was a direct invitation to a dinner that he would be preparing. Trying not to seem too eager, Tina agreed. 

Those simple words that formed to create and invitation has a strange effect on her. They quell the most prominent of doubts about what Newt wanted with the two of them, and the doorway to a future with him seemed to get even bigger.  
Newt occupied himself for the rest of the day with the dinner, although he tried to act nonchalant about it. He was constantly writing on a piece of paper, erasing every few seconds. If Tina casually glanced over, he’d place his hand over the top and act interested in something else. Suspicious, but not undeterred, Tina decided to be a bit brash. Before she can ask what on earth he was doing, Newt is the first to speak.

“I have to run out for a bit, if that’s alright.” he announces, quickly folding up the piece of paper and tucking it into the inner pocket of his waistcoat. While Tina had been showering, he had also spruced himself up by means of a change of clothes. His orange hair still looked as curly and unruly as ever, but his crisp outfit made him look even taller and much happier. Tina couldn’t help but smile on the inside. 

She remembered, when she and Queenie were young, strolling down the shop filled streets of New York with her parents. Snow would fall in the inches and nearly freeze her feet to the bone, but she still loved it. Each shop was filled with golden, cheery lights and toys for all kinds of little boys and girls. She was never as big a fan of dolls as Queenie was, but she could appreciate some of the intricate they wore. This was, of course, for Christmas. Her family was Jewish and didn’t celebrate, but they did celebrate when all of New York seemed to be under a magic spell of cheer. 

Gazing upon Newt was a bit like looking through those windows, seeing something you’d love to have. The thin piece of glass separating Tina from her dream toys was a very good analogy for her and Newt. Despite how close they had become, she felt as if there was a sheet of glass preventing them from moving further. One knock was all it took before it shattered… but what could she do? 

“That’s fine.” Tina finally responds, nodding encouragingly to Newt. He flashes a quick smile and pulls out his wand. In an instant, his coat is zooming to him, fitting itself over his shoulders. Despite the weather warming up outside, because July was fast approaching, Newt seemed heartily attached to his blue coat. Or perhaps, it was the extra space for Pickett to curl up in. 

“Don’t do anything dangerous while I’m gone.” Newt adds as he’s on his way out of the suitcase. Tina laughs, but doesn’t make any promise. In fact, she’s already planning something to pass the time. 

************

Tina was back in Hogsmeade, breathing in the fresh mountain air and letting it clear her mind. Her old friend, the Caterwauling Charm, was screeching and grating against Tina’s eardrums. Blessedly, Gideon Grey showed up lickity-split. 

“Badge, please!” Gideon announces, obviously keeping in mind what Tina had said during their first meeting. Tina produces her badge and, with a snap of his fingers, the wailing ceases. 

“Thanks Gideon, I just have some questions. Disapparating is faster than owling.” she said, stepping next to Gideon in hopes they could talk very quickly and she could move on. 

“Where’s Newt?” Gideon says next, bypassing Tina’s attempts to start the questions. Gideon’s expression is slightly annoying. His mouth is attempting to form a teasing smirk while his eyebrow is raised. Tina, however, finds it more annoying than playful. 

“ _Errands_. Now, did you have any informants watching for you at the Brown’s apartment?” she asks hurriedly. Gideon immediately snorts and shakes his head. Tina’s suspicions skyrocket. 

“A low level auror like me? I can’t get informants. I barely within the rules even setting up that trap. Why do you ask?” Gideon, too, looks intrigued. Tina explains the children they saw, who looked overly interested in she and Newt. When she was done, Gideon shook his head. 

“Haven’t a clue, Ms. Goldstein.” 

**********

Tina wasn’t used to London expeditions without Newt by her side. As soon as she Apparated into the grimy, unsavory part of London where she had spotted the children, she regretted it. Even if Newt wasn’t an auror, at least he knew hexes and protective charms and they could defend each other. Now, Tina felt like a very tiny version of herself. She was used to doing missions alone. In fact, she was used to being alone. Her days at Ilvermorny taught her that Queenie, although they were very close and loved each other, was distinctly different. It was wonderful when they did spend time together (which was a bit difficult, as they sorted into different houses), but when they didn’t, Tina learned to handle herself quite nicely.  
It was for this reason that she cursed human emotions. Just a few days with Newt managed to poke many holes in her solo confidence. 

“Are ye lost, Miss?” says a voice, clouded with a strange accent. Tina whirls around, spotting a haggard old woman standing in the middle of the street. The woman has a hunch to her and is shrouded in black clothes that look more like rolls of paper for a mummy. In the dimness of this part of London, it was very difficult to make out her features. 

“Best hide that wand somewhere else, Miss.” 

Tina froze. This old woman appeared to be looking directly at Tina’s wand. Unbeknownst to her, it had been peeking out from its protective pocket in her coat. A rookie mistake, but she didn’t have time to linger on the mishap. This woman knew it was a wand. Could she be a witch?

“Yes, to answer your question. Mrs. Alice O’Leary, attender of Hogwarts and registered witch.” says the old woman, Mrs. O’Leary, as she stumbles forward and proffers a very wrinkly hand to Tina, who shakily accepts the gesture. Just then, a man on the opposite side of the street appears from around the corner. He stops, taking a long draw from his cigarette as his eyes rest on Tina and Mrs. O’Leary. Smoke snakes from his nostrils before billowing around him like a cloud. Whether his acute interest has something to do with magical sense or odd intrigue, Mrs. O’Leary doesn’t want to linger. 

“Help me home! Or are you still going to act like you’re not my daughter anymore?” Mrs. O’Leary squawks, batting Tina on the arm before waddling further up the street. Tina stares at her, aghast. This old woman believes Tina is her daughter? 

“We need to talk in private.” the raggedy woman whispers. Tina understands and they both scuttle up the street.  
Mrs. O’Leary lives in a dreary apartment building, only marginally nicer than the one Tina and Newt had visited. It takes her a frustratingly long amount of time to climb the two flights of stairs to her room. She had instructed Tina to stay near the door and watch outside. The man with the cigarette strode down the road as soon as Mrs. O’Leary had thrown him off the scent. Finally, when both women were seated in the apartment, Mrs. O’Leary saw fit to ask all the questions. 

“Auror, I assume? It’s about bloody time! I’ve been saying something fishy has been happenin’ this side of town, but no one’s come to investigate.” Mrs. O’Leary speaks without pause, throwing her hands around like she’s juggling. Every word confuses Tina.  
“Something fishy…?”  
“Yes! You’re here to investigate, aren’t you? I’ve been lettering the Ministry for two weeks now. _Two weeks_!” Mrs. O’Leary is threatening to drone on again, so Tina decides it’s time for her to speak up. 

“Investigate what, exactly?” asks Tina, trying to remain polite. Mrs. O’Leary’s hand signals stop. Instead, she nervously glances out of the nearest window before whisking a finger through the air. The curtains snap shut. 

“Children, Miss…?” 

“Goldstein.” 

“Children, Miss Goldstein. A whole group of children going through the streets levitating alley cats and hexing bins! Why, I’ve had to Obliviate four muggles by _myself_!” Mrs. O’Leary expresses with exasperation, whereas Tina is more focused on the group of kids she mentions. A group of magically endowed kids, running loose through the streets of London? Surely, the Ministry was aware of this. They had trackers for underage magic practitioners, didn’t they? If so, how had these reports gone unanswered? Tina was already prepared to lay into Theseus about his Ministry’s dealing, but first she had one more question to ask. As she opens her mouth to speak, a grandfather clock in the corner booms loudly. The pendulum swings from side to side, binging loudly until it ceases after six times. Tina is horrified at how quickly time got away from her. Newt would be expecting her, sitting in an empty flat with a plate of dinner getting cold! It was a split decision that Tina didn’t even have to make. After the days—months, really—of waiting for a moment like this, she knew she had to snatch it up. 

“When do you usually see the band of children, Mrs. O’Leary?” asks Tina, beginning to jiggle her leg in anticipation. 

“During the day, you can find them in the place where they all gather. It’s a vacant apartment building, just two blocks up the road. _Two blocks!_ I tell you, Miss, there’s something about them that just doesn’t sit r—”

“Two blocks up the road, got it! I really must go now, Mrs. O’Leary, but you’ll be hearing from me.” Tina rushes to her feet, volunteers a small smile at Mrs. O’Leary and prepares to Disapparate. She feels almost a little guilty leaving the woman, but she knows how equally important this dinner will be to Newt. It was one of the very first times he was taking such a leap of trust. Tina couldn’t do anything about the children until she had assistance, and that wouldn’t be available until the next day. Or, at least after dessert. 

Tina Disapparates, her body warped for a fraction of a second before disappearing altogether. Mrs. O’Leary remains seated for a few minutes longer, unable to shake the sense of foreboding that leaks from every crack in every window. She hugs her wand tighter to her chest, her wrinkled fingers growing colder by the second. The front door lock unclicks. There’s the slow squeak of the hinges before Mrs. O’Leary knows what is going to happen. A tiny shadow creeps across the wall and spells bounce from corner to corner. Mrs. O’Leary, not the young dueler she used to be, drops like a ton of bricks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait wait wait wait, Beastie, you just added a character for a few paragraphs and killed her off? 
> 
> Well, uhm... yes? IN MY DEFENSE, she will receive her own bit of a part in the plot and will not die in vain. Tina will see to that... Oh oops, was that a spoiler. Yes, yes it was. Prepare for fluff in Chapter 22!
> 
> All shall have an end! Feedback is REALLY appreciated. Typos, misquotes, plot holes--all that kind of stuff. Gimme gimme


	22. A Gift of a Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt arranges dinner and finally gives Tina her very own copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Crying ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a fluffy, warming chapter to write and (hopefully) read. I was writing at 1 AM, so please correct any typos you spot that I might have missed in the proofread. Thanks a bunch and enjoy.

“Pickett, are you sure the flowers look okay?” asks Newt, bustling around the makeshift dinner table in his suitcase like a madman. On his way home from grocery shopping, he had picked up a bouquet of Aster flowers at the flourist shop. He had been completely out of his element, staring at daunting walk to the counter where he’d have to put in an order. Luckily, the counter attendant caught sight of him. It was a jolly woman, very short and round, who went red in the cheeks when she could see how timidly Newt approached. The woman, Mrs. Donald, was extremely patient and sweet—with a hint of cheekiness in her jokes. By the time Newt was out of the shop and on his way to his next destination, he was feeling much better by the wrapped flowers under his arm. His final stop, before he returned home, was the wrapping shop. Mind you, none of these shops were wizard-owned or practiced with magic. Presenting a book about magic to Tina was a breeze compared to presenting it to a man or woman of no magical knowledge. They would probably eye it quite suspiciously before covering it with expertly folded wrappings, but it was a serious breach of magical security. This reason, coupled with an internal struggle, is why Newt stood in front of the storefront. Everything in the window was beautiful. Pink with splashes of other pastels, or daring blues covered with emerald greens. All of it was quite flashy, really. Nothing screamed “Tina” when he gazed upon the options.  
So, he left. While the food simmered and cooked in the various pots and pans he had scattered in his workshop, he set up a table near his work desk. Newt had been at loose ends about the location, as the kitchen in his flat was always cold and lonely. His case felt dreamily warm and inviting, what with the darkening sky that’d be splayed out over their heads while they ate. Newt set the Aster flowers on the table and fetched a vase. Ungracefully, he began stuffing the vase with the flower stems. Pickett quickly dove into action. 

“I’m sorry, Pickett, but I really want them to be perfect.” says Newt, staring at the tiny bowtruckle as he shoved each flower into the vase, one by one. He dropped a stem and turned his tiny face to Newt’s, his black eyes unblinking and his small mouth a straight line. He seemed to be saying, “ _I am practically a flower myself!_ ” Newt left him alone. He focused on setting the plates and utensils. Dougal eyed the utensils with mild confusion. He didn’t eat with fancy cutlery. 

After it was all said and done, Newt gazes upon his work. The table is quite nice and the flowers really do look remarkable. Dougal, however, tugs at his pant leg. Newt looks down at the wide-eyed primate and watches as the graceful creature strides towards the workshop, pointing with a bald finger. He was pointing at the lamp that hung from a peg, sending a flickering light over the space around it. Candles? 

“I do suppose candles are romantic… am I trying to be romantic?” Newt looks down at Dougal again. Dougal’s response was an aggressive nod. Some might find Newt insane for consulting a creature about something so important. Newt, however, had learned that Dougal carried wise insight into the world around him. Perhaps he could predict what would happen if Newt lit a few tall candles. Of course, the table wasn’t very long and the flames might obstruct his view of Tina… 

Charms were a wonderful thing. Everything truly felt ready now. Dougal scampered up Newt’s side, allowing Newt to give him a hug of thanks before they both surveyed their work. Pickett, too, crossed his spindly arms in satisfaction. The food hadn’t come out burnt (on the fourth attempt) and the candles were charmed to float around the table. The ambience was set and the quietness was perfect. Dinner was piping hot and delicious and the melting wax produced a smell strong enough to overcome the usual mustiness of his suitcase. When Newt set Dougal back on the ground, he smiled softly to himself. He had been so focused on making everything perfect that he didn’t have time to feel nervous. This was the first, true date he and Tina would be accompanying each other on. 

Now, Newt feels like vomiting. He stumbles to the rear of his workshop, clutching stomach and wishing he could drown in some sort of a sedative potion. Instead, he took an icy shower (shower was a loose term, as the water simply flowed from a magical source and rarely contained any heat). Still, he walked back into the center of his suitcase and felt like a new man. He even dared spray some of the cologne on himself that his mother had bought him many Christmases prior. 

“Right, you two, Tina will be here any minute, so off you pop. You can watch from your secret hiding spots.” says Newt, chuckling softly. Pickett burrows deeper into Newt’s pocket and Dougal gazes at him softly. He touches his cheek with his fingers—a symbol Newt had never seen him use before. The magical primate scampers off, disappearing into thin air. Now, it was time to wait. 

******

Newt only had to wait about ten minutes. He kept the cuisine warm and fresh while his stomach twisted with worry. What if something bad had happened to Tina? What if he said something stupid? What if he should have been with her on her errands? Would he be able to say anything at all when seated at the table?  
“Bloody _HELL!_ ” Newt wanted to kick something to accompany his shout of frustration, but he was quickly silenced by a small voice from beyond. 

“Newt…?” Tina appears in the workshop doorway, looking like a beautiful gem. She seemed to glow, needing no help from the swaying candles to light the room. Newt was speechless. She wasn’t particularly wearing anything fancy, just perhaps an extra dash or two of lipstick and powdered makeup. Her hair was extra bouncy, but Newt didn’t focus on anything specific. All he could really see was Tina. The way she held herself, a bit timid, with her hands clasped in front of her. No, she wasn’t wearing a fancy dinner gown or a bucket of makeup like Newt had witnessed at several obligatory Ministry dinners. She was wearing what suited her best—her personality. 

Newt realizes he has spent quite a long time fighting to keep his jaw closed during his flabbergasted staring. He runs a sweaty hand down the front of his emerald green (he had branched out from his regular color combinations) waistcoat and swallowed hard.  
“Tina…” is all he manages to utter. Luckily, Tina is already on her way. She steps from the workshop steps, her eye glinting with candlelight. She looks entranced by the gentle swaying of the wax torches, combined with the pigments of a gorgeous sunset. Newt wasn’t exactly sure what sky his suitcase specifically depicted. Wherever it was, it didn’t have the smog of London to plague it. 

“It’s all so beautiful, Newt.” says Tina, her eyes coming to rest on the tall magizoologist. Newt stood at the edge of the table, eyes darting up and down.  
“Would you like to sit?” 

And so it began. After pulling out her chair for her and taking her light spring coat, Newt sat across the small table from Tina and watched tentatively as she began cutting into her dinner. For their dinner, Newt had prepared duck, drizzled in the warm, sweet sauce that was left over from the splashes of alcohol that were added to the waterfowl whilst it cooked. The duck skin was dangerously near burnt, but still crispy and a delight to hold against the tongue. He made a side of buttery potatoes—mashed—and sprinkled it all with salt and pepper. 

Tina makes a face as soon as the duck touches her lips. Newt, having never really cooked to impress, sits on the edge of his seat. 

“Is there something wrong?” he nearly whispers. Tina, realizing her peculiar facial expression, waves him off and stares at him with wide eyes.  
“This is _scrumptious_!” she exclaims, clearly impressed by this show of culinary prowess. Newt’s confidence slowly leaks back into his veins. 

Dinner passes by in idle conversation that feels a bit staged. Newt doesn’t ask Tina about where was all day, figuring she’d bring it up if she wanted to—or if she could. There was certain information aurors simply couldn’t expose. Newt knew this all too well after much berating by his older brother. When the main course was finished and the candles had burned significantly, Newt felt the pocket of his trousers grow heavier and heavier. This was the best time and perhaps the only time. This was what he had been waiting for.  
“Tina… there is a specific reason why I asked you to dinner tonight.” says Newt, clearing his throat at the end of his statement, hoping to distract from the obvious hand reaching into his pocket. Tina’s interested peaked and she leaned forward, eyebrows slightly raised. Newt momentarily loses himself in her gaze, unsure what has come over him. He has a heart that is, for the first time in many years, gushing over with affection. 

“At the docks in New York, I promised you something. I finally have it, Tina.” with those simple statements, Newt’s hand comes to rest on the table, bearing the very first printed edition of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. The scarlet cover embedded with golden lettering practically shimmered in the candlelight. Whether instinctively or planned, Tina scooted her chair closer to his side of the table. Tina’s eyes were wide and Newt could have sworn he saw her shaking as she quickly snatched up the book and began to run her fingers over every inch of it. Deftly, she turned the first page. Inside, a handwritten note caused her to beam and glow. Suddenly, she really was glowing. Her cheeks were damp with two separate trails of tears that ran down them, and Newt was aghast. Why was she _crying_? Wasn’t this a good thing? Hadn’t he done well? Pickett trilled inside his pocket, but neither of the adults could hear the tiny bowtruckle. They were too wrapped up in their inner workings. Newt desperately wanted to solve Tina’s problem. Newt, unlearned in the art of happy and sad crying, didn’t know the difference.

That is, he didn’t know the difference until Tina scooted a tad closer. She leans forward, too slowly to make it look like an accident. Newt feels her lips, soft and warm, brush—no, _press_ —against his cheek. . Electricity sparks through him, rushing to his arms and legs and threatening to break out of his toes. When Tina pulls her head away, she stays very close to Newt’s face. His heart pounds in his chest and blood roars in his ears. What move should he make? What move could he make? He was unequipped for this!  
“Thank you.” Tina smiles. That’s enough for Newt. He immediately returns the smile, but his heart isn’t allowed time to recover. Still leaning forward, he realizes Tina has placed a pale hand on his knee. His knee, which he always thought was much too bony, was now the center of a hotspot he didn’t dare explore. His eyes went wider and they focused only on Tina’s face.  
Queenie had said in her letter than Tina would need someone very special to break down the protective barriers she had spent years building up. Newt hadn’t thought anything of it, at the time. He was just a magizoologist who lived in a briefcase, what could he do? Now, he was beginning to comprehend a deeper meaning in Queenie’s words. Maybe he didn’t have to do anything, per se. He had been scarred, too. He had felt the sting of love and affection unreciprocated. Perhaps this was Tina’s issue too. These leaps she was taking were blind leaps for her. Newt? He welcomed them with open arms.  
Such a special moment, brought to a climax by soft lips on a warm cheek, was all because of a simple message he had scrawled from the heart in the very beginning of her copy of his book. 

_This is a very special copy for a very special woman; my Tina.  
-Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, your magizoologist_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEE  
> Gimme that feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? Please drop a comment or a kudos if you liked it, if not *please* leave some advice. Especially if I have a typo. Typos are terrible.


End file.
